


Something About November

by SpaceWaffleHouseTM



Series: One Shots from the Waffle House [19]
Category: Midnight Special (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Rey (Star Wars), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Coworkers, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, An Ode to Ben Solo's Biceps, Angst, Arranged Marriages, Atlanta, Ballroom Dancing, Ben Raises Baby Porgs, Ben Solo is a Mess, Ben is Depressed, Bendemption, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Charity Auctions, Coworkers - Freeform, Cross Country Rail Trips, Cuddling, Cunnilingus, Demigods, Depression, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Dominant Rey, Drunkenness, Dry Humping, Duchess!Rey, Engagement, F/F, F/M, Fever, First Kiss, First Time, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Bond Smut, Hungover!Ben, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Injured Character, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Redemption, Library Sex, M/M, Major Character Injury, Manhattan, Mutual Pining, Netflix and Chill, No Pregnancy, Office Holiday Party, Omega Ben Solo, Omega Kylo Ren, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Paul Sevier makes an appearance in chapter 17, Porg Parenting, Post TLJ, Prince Ben - Freeform, Princess Rey, Prohibition Era, Proposals, Redeemed Ben Solo, References to Depression, Regency Blow Jobs, Rey is Ben's Tinder Date, Rey is Wearing Nothing But a Towel, Rich Asshole!Ben, Scavenger Rey (Star Wars), Scenting, Sharing a Bed, Sick Character, Sickfic, Single Father Kylo Ren, Single Parents, Smut, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, They’re both dominant until one of them isn’t, Twitter, Waitress!Rey, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, Weird Marriage Proposals, bridal carry, cuddling for warmth, prince!ben, sororities, they're gettin married y'all, throne room alternate ending, tinder dates, we suck dick in this house, wishing upon a star
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-16 15:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 62,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouseTM/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouseTM
Summary: A thirty one shots in thirty days challenge all inspired by prompts from the reylo_prompts twitter account. One is going to post every single day of November, and the tags will update as we go.Aka thirty different ways in which Ben and Rey fall in love, or have already fallen in love, and... sometimes they bone.





	1. Roaring

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #1:  
Rating: M  
Summary:  
In 1923, Ben and Rey are stuck sharing a sleeper car on a cross-country train ride. They see the country together, and maybe grow a little closer on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was very much not appropriate. Not in the slightest regard. It hadn’t been for the last several hours since they took off from the station just outside of New York City, and he realized that the person he was going to be sharing a train car with for the next several days was a woman. Not only that, but an unmarried woman, and he was an unmarried man, and luckily they were at the back of the train car where no one would notice two people of such a status walking into the same room every night, but it still struck him as odd that they’d been allowed to book the same room. 

Ben Solo was fucked, but what choice did he have? The train was completely full. 

He found rather quickly, however, that he didn’t mind. Rey Kanata, his bunk mate, was perhaps the funniest woman he’d ever met. She made a mockery out of everything as long as there was no harm in it, and the quips she’d made about their situation had sent him into ruthless fits of laughter more times than he could count. It had been how they’d bonded in the first place, after all. 

She made the best of their situation, offering to take the top bunk because she knew it was too close to the ceiling for a man of his height, and making jokes about how she was taller than him as she flopped about on the mattress. Already, he knew they would go on to become great friends on their journey west to Sacramento, to California where he’d been told paradise awaited them. 

If he were being honest, though, he started to get a weird feeling in the back of his head that paradise’s meaning had changed. 

He didn’t know what that thought meant until the first night commenced, until he was shivering in the sheets of his lower bunk bed as the train chugged through the Appalachian mountains and toward the Midwest. It was an unusually cold January, and though they’d been warm as night had fallen on the brandy that had been served and the jazz that had been playing in the dining car, now that they were sleeping by themselves, they had lost that spark of fire. 

Above him, he could hear the sound of teeth chattering, and Rey groaned like she was uncomfortable as she shifted on her mattress. Sympathy swept through him as he thought of ways to alleviate her misery. Surely there had to be something he could do for her, right?

Another thought bloomed in his head that, yes, there was something he could do, but he could never—could he? Sharing a bed with a woman when one wasn’t married—publicly at least, in settings like this—was largely frowned upon. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he soon realized that they were already going to draw speculation just from sharing this car. It didn’t matter whether they actually slept together or not. 

With that in mind, he cleared his throat, and prayed she was awake. “Rey?”

Luckily for him, she was. “Yeah?”

“Are you c-cold?”

“F-freezing, actually,” she stuttered back, then he heard her shift again. “Why?”

“I-I was just th-thinking we c-could share?” he asked, his voice tentative and shy as he prayed she wouldn’t take that the wrong way. “We already share a c-cabin.”

There was a hesitation in her voice as she replied, “Are you s-sure?” Then he heard her shift again, and then her feet swung over the edge of her mattress before she slipped off of it, landing smoothly like some sort of jungle cat. “B-because we b-barely know each other and—?”

“I’m f-fine with it if-if you are, I just want t-to b-be fucking warm.” It was true, he was so miserable, he would’ve shared this bed with just about anyone, and he had a lot of enemies. “Is that a yes?”

Rey rolled her eyes, but nodded, then gestured for him to scoot over before wrapping her dressing gown a little more tightly around herself, and crawling into the bed beside him. His heart beat a little faster in his chest as she laid down, and soon he felt her pressed up against his backside, he felt her arm wrapping around his waist as she settled in, and sighed against the ridges at the base of his neck. “Th-thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, already feeling warmer as she pulled him flush against her. The freezing winter air seemed unable to stop them from keeping warm, and within minutes, he was falling into a deep sleep, his dreams filled with hazel eyes and illegal wine as the hours of the night passed him by in silence. 

The next morning, he woke to the sound of the train’s horn being sounded upon arrival at its first stop in the middle of Ohio. He jolted awake, then immediately felt guilty when he remembered he was no longer alone in the bed. Luckily, Rey continued to snore softly behind him, and simply held him more tightly against her as the train chugged to a gentle stop. 

That morning was the warmest he’d ever felt in spite of the chill that lingered in the air. It was warm simply because he had  _ her,  _ because he wasn’t alone, and because he was unable to stop the smile on his face from budding further into life. 

Eventually, though, they had to wake up and face the day, but when they did, Ben found something oddly endearing in the way Rey turned to face him upon waking, in the way the light caught in her eyes when the sunlight streamed through the window. It only became more enchanting as she smiled at him and said, “Good morning.”

It became abundantly clear to him as he stuttered out his response that she had him wrapped around her finger, and this was not going to remain strictly platonic much longer. How could it when she looked at him like that? When she lingered so close without moving away? When her hand rested on his bicep and one of her heels was hooked around his calf like she wanted to hold him in place?

It wouldn’t stay platonic. It couldn’t. It was only a matter of time, and three more days to Sacramento. 

They spent the day after that reading newspapers, books, and dining with the other passengers on the train. Just from their arrival to the dining car together and the way they sat by each other’s side, the other passengers began talking. The funny thing about that, though, was that he’d been so lost in conversation, so far gone to her eyes and her smile, and the way she could light up a room just by saying “hello,” that he’d failed to notice this until they’d retreated back to their cabin. 

The second night she didn’t even bother climbing into her bunk first, she just snuggled up with him in his, her head resting on his chest as he wrapped both arms around her, and reveled in her warmth. His eyes closed, but didn’t remain so for long, springing open again a few seconds later when he heard her deep voice drip like honey into his ear. “Ben, what is this?”

“What is what?” he asked, genuinely confused by the meaning of her question. 

“Between us. I just—“ She took a deep breath, then balled up the fabric of his nightshirt in her fist. “I am not normally this person. I am used to sitting in the cold and waiting for the worst to pass when things get bad, but you… all you had to do was ask and I came running for shelter.”

“It was cold, Rey. It still is.”

“I’ve had far colder nights, and yet I came in here last night and tonight and held you and let you hold me, so what the hell is this? What does it mean?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. All he could do was sit there with his mouth opening and closing like a grouper fish, then he actually tried to think. She clearly didn’t seem to mind if there was something between them, if he wanted her as something more than just a traveling companion, so what could be the worst thing about telling her?

Looking into those eyes, the ones that held entire rainbows and worlds of color within them, he knew he had a limited range of options for what to do. He took a deep breath, then he brought one of his hands to her cheeks, watching her reaction to his every move closely as he drifted toward her, as he moved closer and closer, and they had to shift, her back pressing into the mattress and her arms wrapping around his neck as the gap between them got smaller. 

Her fingers had just started to card through his hair when he finally kissed her, and the world spun out of control. She kissed him like no one else had, the way he’d always wanted to be kissed, soft, sensual, slow, explorative, and sweet. It made him think that he’d been missing something all his life, searching corners of rooms, under mattresses and hidden compartments of drawers, but never finding that thing he’d been looking for because it had been right in front of his eyes all along. 

It made him feel dizzy in the best possible way, and he smiled against her lips as he shifted again, pulling her on top of him as the train chugged on through the midwestern night, on through Illinois and out west into Iowa and beyond. 

They’d wound up kissing through half the night. It never escalated beyond that, never transcended a simple kiss, but it felt nice, and so they did it, kissing until they grew too tired to keep going, and only then did they stop and pull away. Only then did they kiss briefly one last time before snuggling up beside one another again, and succumbing to the throes of sleep. 

The next day saw them unable to break apart from each other, and that really had passengers talking, but he didn’t care. He’d never see any of these people again after they reached California, and half of them were too drunk on liquor they weren’t supposed to be having to remember their remarks anyway. This allowed him to enjoy his time with Rey, to enjoy the way she teased him and kissed him when she thought no one was looking—and the way she did those things when they were alone—and he found himself almost dreading what would happen when they reached Sacramento, when they arrived at their final destination and had to go their separate ways. 

He voiced that fear to her that night. They were lying beside one another again, kissing lazily off and on as his fingers stroked gingerly up her arm. “Rey?” he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper between kisses. 

“Hmm?”

“What happens when we reach California?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sacramento. I assume we’re not going to the same place.”

“Well, that depends, where are you going?”

“Downtown, my father owns a shop I’m taking ove—“

“So am I. My mother has fallen ill and I’m going to be staying with her indefinitely until she either dies or chases me from her property,” she told him, then she rested a hand on his cheek. “Don’t worry, Ben, I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you when the train stops.”

“You’ve known me for two days.”

“I said I wouldn’t leave you when the train stopped, I didn’t say anything about what happened after, you presumptuous ass,” she said, but her voice was light and teasing. “But regardless, I don’t think I’ll leave.”

His eyebrow quirked. “No?”

“No,” she whispered, pulling him in for another soft, brief kiss before she began to press her lips along the line of his jaw, commencing a descent that would alter the course of his life forever. “I’m…”  _ kiss _ . “Not…”  _ kiss.  _ “Going…”  _ kiss.  _ “Anywhere…”  _ kiss.  _

His breath was coming in short, sharp little pants as she descended along his neck, leaving a mark by his collar bone, just beneath where his shirt would conceal it from view as she went further and further down. “Rey…”

“Is this okay?” she asked, kissing him over the clothed expanse of his left pectoral muscle. 

Though it took him a minute to find the words to say, Ben nodded, and placed his hand on her cheek as his lip quivered until he could speak. “More than okay,” he croaked, then she kept descending, reaching for the button of his trousers before sliding them down his hips, before crawling back on the bed, and making him certain he could actually see stars. 

They crossed over Colorado the following morning. As they passed through the Rocky Mountains, the view was lost to them both. They were too caught up in each other, too lost in finding ways to make each other come apart that didn’t involve the risk of conceiving a child when they hadn’t brought any sort of contraceptive with them. He hadn’t exactly been planning on meeting her, after all, he’d just thought he’d be crossing the country. 

The memory of what she’d done to him the night before was fresh in his mind as he did the same thing to her. He could remember how hard he’d become as her lips descended down his body, how he’d gasped her name when she’d taken him in her hand, how he’d come apart inside her mouth as she went down on him. He wanted to return that favor for her, and so he did after they finished eating lunch. 

Rey’s legs were on either side of his face, and his tongue was buried between her thighs as she tried not to  _ writhe  _ on top of him. Her hands had never been more tight in his hair, her grip had never felt more intense as she tried her hardest not to moan his name loudly enough for the entire train to hear. 

It only spurred him on further. He practically drank her in, like he couldn’t get enough of her, and he really couldn’t. Each sound she made, each tug of his hair, each twitch of her legs made him come alive, and so he didn’t stop, he didn’t cease his pace, he just kept going until he felt her come apart, until she came against his mouth screaming his name. 

When she kissed him, when she collapsed on top of him after, he knew for sure that he’d never be able to let her out of his life again. He knew his destiny lay with hers, and as his fingers twined in the fringe of her dress, as they exchanged sloppy, drunken kisses, he whispered those promises to her, relief flooding him when she nodded and promised him she felt the same.

She was still panting, still flushed and pink and slightly sweaty from what he’d done to her as she pressed her hands to his chest, sitting back so that she was straddling his hips. “When the train stops at Sacramento, I’ll get off with you.”

“You will?” he asked, still unable to believe his luck. “You’ll come with me?”

“Yes, I want us to have a proper dinner and dance in a speakeasy before I go to see my mother, I want to deny reality for a little bit longer,” she told him, her fingers gently stroking the bare skin of his chest where she’d undone his buttons minutes earlier. “And then I want us to do it every night.”

“Every night?”

“Every night until you grow tired of me.”

He laughed, then placed his hand over hers. “My dear, I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of you,” he promised her. 

“And I won’t tire of you either.”

“Oh no, whatever will we do?” he muttered sarcastically, then she laughed as she kissed him fiercely, and pinned him back down to the mattress, holding him close as the train chugged onward to Sacramento, toward their destination, their families, their lives...

Toward all of those many, many nights they’d just promised to each other. 


	2. When You Wish Upon a Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is drunk and lonely so he makes a wish upon a star. Next morning his cute neighbor gets locked out of her apartment wearing only towel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M  


He doesn’t know if he’s ever been this drunk. Has he ever stumbled down the streets barely able to see? Everything blurry as he just tries to find his stupid apartment? It’s thankfully on the first floor, but regardless, he feels like a fool, and everything around him seems to be spinning. 

One thing becomes abundantly clear to him as he walks down the street, approaching the sign declaring the Millenium Falcon apartments are on the left; he is going to throw up and then pass out the second he reaches the toilet—the second he stops moving. He’s fine with this, really, he is, but he’s still so fucking miserable, and it makes him remember that he’s just gone to another engagement party by himself, that he’s going home to no one, that he’s still alone, and he’s probably gonna stay that way for another twenty years. 

Ben can’t wait until he’s fifty to stop being so alone, he can’t. 

Suddenly his door is upon him, and for a half second, he’s puzzled as to how he got here so fast, but he’s been blacking out off and on since he left the bar with a hastily wished congratulations to Finn and Poe. Groaning softly as he leans against it, Ben reaches into his pocket, and fishes out his keys, but before he can put them into the lock, he drops them, and he feels the light leave his eyes as he looks up into the sky, and stares at the stars. 

He’s tired, he’s really tired and very drunk, and he knows that stars are just balls of glass drifting uselessly through the enormous expanse of space, but his drunken mind tells him to make a wish as if he’s a child. What baffles him more, though, is that he does. He closes his eyes, tilts his swimming head toward the sky, and thinks about what he wants to ask the stars for. 

_ I wish I wasn’t so alone _ .

Whether he wants it to or not, that’s what slips through the cracks of his thoughts, and as his eyes flicker open, as he stares at the rest of the world, at the parking lot of his building that’s currently void of people, he knows it was the right one. With this in mind, he turns around, and uses the last of his strength to reach down for his keys, and open his door. 

He’s got a hangover to prepare for in the morning. 

*

Said hangover annihilates him completely. He calls off work that morning, he hides himself away in his apartment until he realizes he has no ibuprofen, then he puts on sunglasses—even though the day is overcast—and walks to the nearest pharmacy to purchase his hangover cure. It takes him twenty minutes and several concerned looks from the cashier he’s purchasing these things from, but he gets what he needs, and walks back to his apartment with a pounding against his skull that’s so severe he thinks he might have a tiny elf in there trying desperately to escape. 

_ Fuck off _ , he thinks to the elf, then he keeps walking until he reaches his building, but the pounding only gets worse. In fact, he’s not even sure it’s just in his head anymore. He looks up at the building, and in front of the apartment next to his is his cute neighbor, Rey, standing outside with her hair in a neat little bun and nothing but a towel wrapped around her body as she slams it into her door. 

The sight of it nearly makes him drop his bags from shock. “R-Rey?” he asks as he approaches, trying to keep his eyes off of her barely covered body. 

It’s a difficult task, but he manages. 

She turns around sharply, her hands clutching her towel a little more firmly now that she’s realized she’s not alone. “Ben?” she replies, then she slumped against her door, and a hand comes up to slam against her forehead. “Of course you’d catch me like this, of course you would.”

Ben is still a little too hungover to catch the hidden meaning he knows is behind that sentence, so instead, he laughs, and sets down his bags in front of his door before making his way over to hers. “Lock yourself out?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to get a package a friend dropped off for me?” She looks down to her feet, where there is indeed a cardboard box waiting for her to open it. “But then I forgot to prop the door open, and well, these lock automatically, so I’m fucked. Can’t even call the landlord cause my phone’s inside.”

“ _ Shit, _ ” he breathes, trying to think of a way to help her. He could probably call the landlord for her, he could tell Maz that his neighbor’s in jeopardy, but that’s still going to leave Rey trapped outside in nothing but a towel for a good half an hour given how far away she lives. Another idea springs to mind, and he cocks his head in the direction of his apartment. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll call the landlord.”

“ _ Thank you.” _

“No problem, but you know it’ll take her a while to get here, right?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way, but since it’s kind of cold, you could come in and borrow some of my clothes if you want,” he says, because there’s no way to skirt around the offer he’s making her. “But you don’t have to.”

She looks down at the goosebumps on her arms, then back up at him. “Add in some hot chocolate and I’m sold.”

He laughs as he walks back to his door, listening to her quiet footsteps as they hurry along behind him. “I can do that,” he promises her, then he picks up the things he’d bought at the pharmacy, and unlocks the door, ushering her inside soon after. 

*

Five minutes later he’s got hot water boiling on the stove and little packs of cocoa powder ready to be mixed in. He’s running short on marshmallows, but he’s doing the best with what he has, and surely that’s got to be enough, right? 

His hangover hasn’t quite gone away yet, he’s wearing sunglasses indoors and still waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in, but he is relieved slightly to have the distraction provided by Rey. Her presence in his apartment is a welcome change from how bored and lonely he usually is, even if it makes him nervous as all hell to have her here. 

Maybe he wouldn’t be so nervous if he hadn’t had a crush on her since the day she’d moved in. He’d thought she was cute the second he saw her, and he’d only fallen further when one of the guys helping her move in cracked a joke and made her laugh. He’d been a goner when he heard that laugh. Her smile, her eyes, the way she spoke, everything about her sent him soaring into the sky, and now she was in his apartment with nothing but a towel on and she was about to be wearing his clothes. 

He really hadn’t thought this through had he?

A couple minutes later, Rey emerges from his bathroom with a pair of his sweatpants tied firmly at her waist and an old Harvard sweatshirt that covers her down to her mid-thigh. It’s long on him, of course it would swallow her, but the sight of her in his clothes, the sight of her sleeves threatening to fall from her shoulders is sending all of the blood in his body due south. 

He’s achingly hard and she’s only wearing his clothes. Ben is going to die a sweet, delicious death, and it is going to be at her hands. 

The last sensible thought in his brain tells him to cut off the burner of the stove before he turns around to look at her properly, drinking in this sight he may never have the chance to see again as she walks closer. “Comfortable?” 

She nods. “Yeah, thank you. I’ll return them as soon as Maz gets here.”

That would be a fucking tragedy. 

“What?” she asks, sounding thoroughly bewildered as she blinks at him, and he goes pale as he realizes he said that out loud. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, then he steps forward, crossing the space between them as he fumbles for an apology. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to say that. It just came out.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s just, I’m hungover, my brain-mouth filter isn’t exactly performing at its best at the moment—“

“Ben…”

“And now I’m nervous because you’re in my apartment wearing my clo—“

“ _ Ben _ !” she shouts it this time, and suddenly her hands are gripping his shirt, and she’s pulled him in a little too close. “Ben, I don’t mind.”

“You-You don’t?”

“No,” she replies, shaking her head as she steps a little closer. “Don’t laugh, but I’ve thought you were cute since the day I moved in. So to hear you say that it would be a tragedy if I gave you your clothes back…” Her hands drifted up from his shirt, wrapping around his neck to play with the hair at the base of it as her eyes drifted down to his lips. “That’s the best news I’ve had in ages.”

His breath hitches. “Rey…” 

“So since we’ve still got another twenty five minutes before Maz gets here, would you please stop blabbering and kiss me?” she asks, then she goes a little pale. “Unless I’ve got this all wron—“

She doesn’t have this wrong at all, and he has to prove it to her. Without even thinking about it, Ben wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close as his lips descend to meet hers, and he sweeps them both into a kiss that nearly leaves them unable to stand. In fact, he has to back up to the counter with his arm around her waist just to keep on his feet, just to keep kissing her. 

He’s lived in this apartment for a year now, he’s been by himself for an entire year and a few days, but it’s never felt like home the way kissing her does. Rey’s lips are soft, so achingly soft and gentle that he thinks he could get lost in their touch, her hands in his hair keep him grounded but make him float at the same time, and her body against his ignites a fire he’s certain will never burn out. It feels  _ right  _ kissing her, it feels like everything he’s ever been looking for has been found, and he wants to drown in her touch, wants to drown in this kiss for the rest of his life. 

“Will you kiss me until Maz lets me into my apartment?” she asks softly, breaking the kiss for just a few seconds to ask the question he’s sure she’s been dying to ask since this started. 

He laughs, then his thumb gently strokes the ridges of her spine, where his entire palm is splayed out casually to support her. “Rey, I’ll keep kissing you after Maz is done, if you’ll let me.”

“I will,” she breathes, then she’s kissing him again, and he’s seeing the stars in the night sky that he’d wished upon last night. He’s seeing that one, stupid ball of bright light, and while he knows it’s impossible and just a magnificent coincidence, he thanks his lucky star for the gift it’s given him. 

Now he’s not alone anymore, now he’s being given the best kiss of his life, and now he has  _ Rey,  _ and maybe, just maybe, he believes in a little bit of magic. 


	3. The Prince and the Waitress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is a waitress at the Gala at the Alderaanian Embassy. Queen Leia tries to make her son pick a fiancée. To Rey’s horror, Ben picks her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated: T  


When she’d taken this job, Rey had expectations. Namely, she thought she’d just be mindlessly offering people champagne all night and then going home to collect a paycheck at the end. She thought it would be simple, boring, ordinary, and she’d just go back to her normal every day life at the end. 

She had been very, very wrong. 

In fact, she’d been so wrong in her predictions of what would happen that night, that she was now laughing about it with the Prince of Alderaan in a tiny little curtained off corner of ballroom while they sipped champagne off of the tray she was supposed to be serving to guests. He kept telling her it was okay, and he was her boss’s son, after all, and they’d gotten along so swimmingly that she trusted him and they got tipsy together. 

With how many fits of giggles they’d burst into at this point, it was a wonder they hadn’t been caught. 

Especially given how important staying hidden was to both of them. Rey was trying to avoid half the embassy, and Ben was trying to avoid his mother’s order that he announce who he’d chosen to marry—since he’d come of age—that night. He definitely needed to be hidden more than her, but nonetheless, she’d decided to keep him company. 

The Alderaanian prince was actually rather funny and sweet, and she found him charming in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Something between them just clicked. It felt right standing at his side, sitting next to one another on a wide windowsill with their thighs touching and moonlight lighting up their faces. 

“So as you can see, I didn’t think this would be how my night went,” she said, sipping from her flute. “But I’m glad it did.”

“Me too.” He sipped from his own flute, never breaking eye contact with her the entire time. “So what do you do when you’re not waitressing my mother’s over-extravagant balls?”

“You want to know what I do with my spare time?”

He shrugged. “Well, yes, I… I’m curious. Odds are unless I’m very lucky, I’ll never see you again, so what do you do? How can I find you again after this if I ever wanted to…” A blush crept up his cheeks, though whether it was from the alcohol or not was anyone’s guess. “Keep in touch?”

Blinking at him in surprise, she struggled to find the words to say in response. “You want to keep in touch?”

“You’re probably the most interesting person I’ve talked to at one of these parties,” he admitted, then he let his free hand call into the space between them, his palm up and open like it was waiting for hers to fill it. “So what do you do in your spare time? Where can I find you?”

Inhaling deeply, Rey stared at his open palm, debating within herself whether or not she wanted to take it. This was insane, absolutely insane. For one, she lived just a few blocks away from the embassy and he lived in a small, island country off the coast of Canada and Maine. They lived six hundred miles apart, so she wasn’t sure exactly what he was hoping to get out of this, but she also figured they were both a little drunk and obligated to make promises they couldn’t keep, right?

She could oblige the Alderaanian prince for a little while before they both forgot about this in the morning, couldn’t she? 

As she took his hand, though, and laced her fingers with his, she found she wanted whatever was happening here to last a whole lot longer than just this night. Weirdly enough, she liked Ben. He was sweet and not at all a royal pain in the ass like the tabloids made him out to be. The prince was funny and charming and a great listener, and in spite of having learned her life story, he hadn’t turned away. 

He’d comforted her and told her she wasn’t alone instead, which was more than anyone else in her life had done so far. 

“Okay,” she told him, then she leaned forward. “I work at a museum. Reception desk. It’s okay money, but this pays better.”

“The museum a few blocks south?”

“The very same,” she assured him, then she sipped her champagne, finishing off that flute before she grabbed another. “And I play guitar in my spare time, because I know you’re still waiting for the answer to that question.”

“I’d love to hear you play sometime, if you don’t mind,” he told her, and as she sipped her new glass, she noticed they’d started to drift closer. She didn’t mind. “Something tells me you’re good at it.”

She snorted, then set her glass down to gently smack his chest with her palm. “You’re flattering me, your highness.”

“Please, call me Ben,” he whispered softly, then Rey’s palm lingered over his chest, and suddenly the sounds of the party just beyond the curtain that concealed them were drowned out. It was just her, him, and the moonlight. No one else existed. _ Nothing _else existed. Just them and the night. 

“Ben,” she whispered, and a shiver passed through him. “Ben.”

“Yeah, like that,” he breathed, sounding ever so slightly like he was short of breath as he began to lean forward, closing the gap between them as his free hand came up to caress her jaw as he moved in. 

Her heart started racing as she realized he was about to kiss her. The prince of fucking Alderaan was about to kiss her, and her breath smelled like champagne. She quickly realized that his did, too, and she relaxed a bit as the space between them grew smaller and smaller, until there was barely a hair’s breadth between them, until—

A great fanfare played suddenly, snapping them out of the reverie they’d been in, and pulling back the curtains of reality far more quickly than either of them had been ready for. “Fuck,” he breathed, pulling away.

She jumped off the windowsill they’d been sitting on, and he followed suit. “What’s wrong?”

He grimaced slightly, then he gestured outside of the curtain. “My mother.”

_ His mother. _ The god damn _ Queen _ of Alderaan. His mother. _ Dear god. _She’d nearly kissed the heir to the Alderaanian throne. If she got another minute alone with him, she thought there was a strong chance she actually would. “Oh, what does she want?”

“You’re not going to like it,” he muttered, then his face lit up with an idea. “Or you might. Come on.”

With that, he took their still joined hands, and guided them out from behind the curtain, weaving them through the crowd of people which were now facing the massive stage that had been set up for the party on the far end of the room. On it, she could see her majesty Queen Leia Organa-Solo giving a speech that everyone in the room was enraptured by, but she and Ben were largely ignoring in favor of weaving their way through the crowd. 

In hindsight, she would wish she’d been paying more attention to it, since it led to perhaps the biggest moment of her life, but in the moment she was a little drunk on champagne and Ben, and he in turn was drunk on her. They’d intoxicated each other so thoroughly that it was a wonder they’d managed to escape from the confines of curtain and moonlight at all. 

“Do you trust me?” Ben whispered as he guided her through the final rows of the crowd to the stage. 

“I just met you.”

“Fair, but do you trust me?”

“I do,” she replied, then she let him lead her to the side of the stage, where a group of security guards gave them a very confused once over before letting them pass, and they made their way through until they were standing at the base of a staircase that would lead them up onstage with the Queen. 

Rey’s heart was absolutely _ pounding _in her chest. She felt like suddenly she was a million times more sober now as she held Ben’s hand, and finally the words being spoken by the queen made sense. 

“... for my son to finally choose the person he wishes to marry, carrying on in the tradition of the Alderaanian throne,” she was saying as Rey watched from the side of the stage. “Without further adieu, Ben, come forward and tell us the name of the person you’ve chosen.”

“Follow me,” Ben whispered, then he was tugging on her hand again, and she was being pulled out onto the stage. 

“Ben…” she replied, having a feeling she knew where this was going as she was pulled out onto the stage, and the shock of the bright lights drowned out the applause as she followed him, not stopping until they both stood side by side at the microphone she was sure the queen had just been standing at seconds earlier. 

_ Where was the queen? _ She had no idea where the other woman had gone as she tried to look out at the crowd, not really listening as Ben gave a speech to the people of his country—and a few from hers, namely important governmental figures—and she suddenly felt overwhelmingly nervous. She’d never been in front of a crowd this big before. 

“My mother had very specific plans for the night.” A round of laughter escaped the crowd, which he waited for the end of so he could continue. “She wanted me to pick one of the lovely men and women of a very high standing gathered at the front of the stage here tonight, and no offense to you all, but I haven’t met a single person out of that crowd that I thought ‘wow, I’d love to marry you.’ Not one of them, but…” He gripped the microphone a little more tightly as he then looked at her. “I did meet someone. I met someone incredible, who’s told me all kinds of stories, and who’s inspired me to take chances and actually propose to someone at this utter farce of a ball. 

“So I would like to announce to the people of Alderaan that I have chosen,” Ben said into the microphone, bringing her back to reality as he looked at her, then he removed the mic from the stand, turning to face her full on as he began to get down on one knee, still holding her hand in one of his as a wave of shock rushed through the crowd and the waitress. “If you’ll have me, Rey Kanata, I would very much like to choose you. I know we’ve only just met, but you can say no now or later if you wish, I just need my mother off my back and well, I like you, so what do you say? Will you marry me?”

Her first thought was that she might faint. The second thought was that this was a dream. It wasn’t real. There was no way in hell this could be real. The prince of Alderaan was on one knee in front of her, what kind of twisted fucking fanfiction scenario was that? It was mind-boggling, but it was reality, and he was actually on his knee waiting for an answer. He had no ring, but she knew that if she said yes, she’d have the prettiest one she’d ever seen within hours. 

What did she have to lose? She liked him, she didn’t exactly enjoy her museum job, Alderaan was pretty relaxed for a monarchy, and Ben… he was looking at her like she might offer him the whole world by saying yes. So in spite of her nerves, in spite of the lights and the crowd and the flashing cameras—and her waitress uniform above all—she nodded slowly. “Yes,” she whispered, then she said it a bit louder as he set down the microphone, and got to his feet. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

There were a few shocked gasps at first, but those soon shifted into roaring cheers as Ben wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulled her close, and gave her one last tiny smile before he leaned down and kissed her, and she saw stars in her vision as her eyes fluttered shut. 

She returned his kiss as gently as she could, not wanting it to be too intense for the public but also needing to enjoy it. This was a kiss to celebrate her engagement after all, she needed to enjoy it, and so she did for the next several seconds, living for the way it felt like the room was spinning as she and Ben’s lips parted and came together until the crowd’s applause began to die down. Only then did they bother to break apart and face the crowd. 

Ben’s arm around her waist, his hand at her hip, might’ve been the only thing that kept her standing as she waved to the sea of flashing lights and applauding hands. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his thumb already rubbing soothing circles into her side just in case she wasn’t. _ Shit _she might’ve been in love with him already. 

“I’m fine,” she told him, then she leaned into his touch as they moved away from center stage, and he led her away from the crowd. “Just surprised is all. I didn’t exactly come here tonight expecting to get engaged.”

“Neither did I, but thank you for saving my ass.” He chuckled softly to himself as they listened to his very shocked mother retake the microphone, and start giving another speech about how she’d be finding her son to give him hell for that shocker later. “We should probably hide again.”

“I seem to recall a certain neglected corner with six champagne flutes still waiting to be emptied,” she told him, then she watched his face light up with a grin as he squeezed her hand. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied breathlessly, then he broke into a run, pulling her with him as they raced back to the corner of the room. “Come on.”

With a burst of giggles, they ran behind the curtain, and hurriedly resumed their position on the windowsill, unable to contain their laughter as they regraded their glasses of champagne, and held one another. The party passed them by with lazy kisses and casually taken sips of drinks that swiftly disappeared, but the prince and his fiancé couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. They were too lost in the magic of the night, too lost in learning what they loved about each other. 

“When do you think I’ll get a ring?” she asked, reaching up to stroke his hair as she set down her last glass of champagne. “Hmm? When will I have something to let the world know you’re mine?”

He shivered slightly at those words, then he leaned forward, and kissed her forehead. “Rey, if I have my way, you’ll have a ring tomorrow, I promise.”

“Nothing too big?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Perfect. And Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna run, I promise. You actually seem like a great person to be married to.”

He laughed softly, then he kissed her forehead again. “So do you,” he assured her, then he set down his glass, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him as their eyes both drifted shut, and they fell asleep like that—

They fell asleep drunk, happy, and bathed in moonlight, ready for a future that they had no idea would take them somewhere wonderful. 


	4. Sense and Sensuality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duchess Rey finds herself trapped at the annual party at the Skywalker's manor. Bored to death, she finds refuge in the mansion library hoping to finds some books to survive the evening, and she does... Some rather adult books have been hidden in the back of the library. Ashamed but intrigued, she starts to read, until she gets interrupted by Ben Solo, heir of the Skywalker blood, arrogant casanova, and insufferable childhood acquaintance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E  


This wasn’t proper. This wasn’t something a duchess should ever be doing, much less be caught doing, but she was doing it. Duchess Rey Kenobi was reading the most scandalous work of fiction in the library of the manor which was hosting the very party she was  _ supposed  _ to be finding a husband at. Instead, she was hiding in their library reading books filled with so many obscenities and smut, she was certain her poor grandfather would pass and the throne would become her father’s. 

She would be one step closer to having the crown herself, and that was exactly what she was trying to avoid. 

So she kept on reading in silence and secret, burying her nose in the novel as the man and woman on the page lost themselves in the throes of pre-marital passion. For a moment, she thought she might fall over that edge with them. 

At least, she did until she heard the sound of someone snickering quietly on the far side of the room. Ears on alert, Rey turned the page of the book, already suspecting the identity of the person in the room with her, and praying she could deal with whatever the hell he wanted now. 

“Found some light reading?” asked the voice of Ben Solo, and she rolled her eyes as she turned around to confirm his identity. 

And lo and behold, there he stood the pompous ass, heir to the Skywalker fortune, local Casanova, and unfortunate childhood acquaintance himself. He was leaning against a bookshelf smirking above the sea of navy blue he’d worn to his mother’s party, and giving her a knowing look like he was fully aware of exactly what she was reading. 

The bastard had probably put the books there himself. Of course a man like Ben Solo would have books filled with such improprieties, of course he would. She scoffed as she shut the book, and put it back on the shelf. “I see  _ you _ enjoy some intriguing writing, Mr. Solo,” she told him, not bothering to turn and look at him as she heard him approach. Instead, she skimmed her gloved fingers over the backs of the books, checking their titles for any hints that they contained a similar material to that found in the first. “Care to explain?”

“Only if you explain why you were a quarter of the way through,” he replied, then she could sense him behind her, then she could see his arm reaching above her for another book, but she still didn’t spare him a single glance. She wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. “It seems you have an affinity for filth, your grace.”

Humming her assent, she watched as he put the book back above her head, but didn’t leave his position behind her. “It seems you share the same taste as I.”

“A quaint observation,” he said, then she could feel warmth radiating from his hand just before she felt it at her waist, and she closed her eyes as she listened to him speak. It made her feel like she’d felt reading those books, learning what people did to one another to create sensations between their legs that made them want to commit sins they could never speak of in a church. “What were you reading about?”

His hand snaked around slowly, up the crimson red fabric of her dress until it was sprayed out over her upper abdominal muscles and rib cage, until she could feel the tips of his fingers just below her breasts. Her breath caught as her hand came up to cover his, as his other one rested casually at her hip, and she felt herself being pulled closer to him until her back was flush against his front. Both of them shuddered slightly in the aftermath, and Rey realized that even in spite of Ben’s reputation, even though he’d definitely been with women before, he was nervous. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked him as he held her, and as she felt his gaze sweep hungrily over her body, she tilted her head ever so slightly to the side. “Did you close the door when you came in?”

“I did,” he replied, then she shivered again as the hand on her rib cage shifted up so that his fingers were putting just enough pressure on her right breast to let her know he was there. “What did you learn?”

_ Ah,  _ he thought she knew nothing—that she was a curious, sweet, blushing virgin who knew nothing and was astonished by what she’d seen. He was very, very wrong, and she was more than happy to show him how wrong. “Nothing I didn’t already know,” she told him as he began to press kisses along the line of her exposed neck, as his palm covered her breast, and threatened to conceal the other as he squeezed it slightly in his grip. 

“Oh?” He let the hand at her hip sink forward and down, fingers resting just over her pelvis as he continued peppering soft little kisses over her neck. “So what was it then?”

She laughed as she brought a hand up to sink her fingers into his hair, pulling him close against her as he kissed her skin a few more times, then she tugged slightly, pulling him back before turning in his grip just enough to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I should show you.”

Getting Ben Solo to tremble was no small feat, but he’d just been outwitted. He had just been served a challenge by the woman he could call his occasional nemesis, and he’d never been one to back down from a challenge. His grip on her became loose, and he became pliant as she turned in his arms, then rested her hands on his chest, smoothing them down the expanse of his well-tailored jacket before she reached the ties of his trousers. Already she could see he’d grown hard from what she’d been doing to him; she could see how he wanted her and probably had from the minute he’d caught her reading the smutty fiction he’d put in his family’s library. “Maybe you should.”

“Get against the bookshelf,” she told him, and he didn’t hesitate to obey the command. In fact, he seemed perhaps a little too eager to cater to her every whim, almost as if he—unlike most men—liked it when she told him what to do. 

His eyes never left hers as she approached him, as she pressed him into the shelf with her body, and reached down to undo the tires of his trousers. “This is new for you isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for his answer, she just kept going, working to free his cock from the confines she could feel it straining against. “Having someone else in charge?”

He groaned softly as she finished untying the laces of his trousers, then she began tugging them and his under things down his hips and thighs. “No…” he breathed. “Just uncommon.”

Humming her acknowledgement, Rey slowly sank down, following the fabric she was pulling until she was on her knees in front of him, her thick skirts providing cushion against the hard wood of the library floor. “I imagine,” she said, trying not to let her voice waiver. “Are you quite certain you weren’t followed?”

“Quite. No one saw me leave, your grace,” he said, his voice rising sharply in pitch as she reached up, and took his cock in her hands, stroking it gently as she realized something. 

“I like it when you do that,” she told him, swiping her thumb over the tip of him. “When you call me, ‘your grace.’ Keep doing that.”

“Yes, your grace.” His lower lip was quivering as he watched her move, watched her lean forward until his cock was just inches from her mouth. 

Deciding that she’d teased him long enough, Rey took pity on him, and finally licked the tiny, white bead of precome that had developed at his tip, living for the way his head fell back against the book case as she moved. One of his hands came up tentatively behind her, resting on her well-sculpted updo as she opened her mouth, and began taking him inside. 

They were very lucky the library was so far removed from the ballroom, they were so very, very lucky, because Ben was rather vocal about what she was doing. The moan he let out when she took him as far into her mouth as she was capable of was obscene and it only got louder, forcing him to clap his other hand over his mouth and bite down on his palm when her cheeks hollowed, and she began to suck his cock in earnest. 

“Oh, god,” he breathed, and the way he kept taking the lord’s name in vain after that had her certain they were both going to hell. They were both going straight to the fire and brimstone that waited below, but  _ fuck  _ this was worth it. Every reaction she got out of him was priceless. Every time she moved up and down the length of it he was whispering her name, her title, or just some flurry of words that failed to make sense. 

His reaction was a thing of magic. Every shaky breath he took, every time his hand struggled to find purchase in her hair because he could barely control his body sent waves of pleasure through her own. She didn’t think it was possible to come from pleasuring someone else, but with him she started to wonder if it just might happen. 

Her tongue swirled around his tip again as she pulled back, and she could taste more of the salty tang of his precome leaking out of it as she went back down, and he whimpered her title like it was a prayer. “Tell me when you’re close, Solo,” she whispered to him as she pulled back again, then she went down, sucking him a bit more forcefully as he gasped and writhed in front of her. 

“I’m close, your grace,” he whispered, nearly stuttering the words out as he grasped at the bookshelf behind him to keep himself standing. “ _ Fuck _ , go faster.”

She may have been in charge, but she could obey this one command. There was one thing they both wanted very desperately from this encounter, and that was they both wanted him to come. So she sucked his cock with renewed fervor, she took him in like he was nothing, living for every gasp he gave her in return in those final seconds before he shouted her name into his hand, and she felt his come hit the back of her throat. 

Neither of them made a sound as she continued sucking his cock through it all, as she drew out every second of his orgasm with slow strokes that she knew drove him wild. The only noise in the room was his breathing as he worked to get it back down to a rate that could be considered normal, and the tiny, wet sounds of Rey’s mouth slipping away from his cock, then swallowing as she met his gaze. 

The man in front of her was awestruck as she got to her feet, wiping off a bit of wetness on the corner of her mouth with her white, satiny glove before she reached down for him again, and tucking his cock back into his trousers before she pulled them up, and did the laces again without saying another word. Only when she was finished with all of that did she let her mouth fall open, only when her breathing was under control again did she even bother to try speaking as she pointed a finger against his sternum. “That’s what I was reading.”

“I-it-it-it s-seems v-v-very educ-cational,” he assured her, the bewildered look in his eyes causing a tiny laugh to escape her lips as she realized he looked utterly spellbound.

All because she’d sucked his cock. 

“It was.”

“We should be getting back, but… W-would you want to share a dance with me when we do? I have a feeling I’d like to learn more about your um… education,” he said, then he cleared his throat. “If that is all right with you.”

She gave him a small giggle as she nodded, holding out her hand. “Well since you asked so nicely…”

There was a stupidly wide grin on his face as he took her hand, then allowed her to lead him from the library and back toward the ballroom. They had a party to get to, after all, and many, many more lessons they still had yet to learn. After all, in spite of all they’d done during their encounter, Rey still hadn’t learned how Ben would react to a simple kiss. 


	5. In Your Eyes (the Light the Heat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a minute a day, Ben is able to see through his soulmate’s eyes. He has no other way of communicating with her, or finding her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


Ben’s tinder date is five minutes late. He keeps checking his watch feverishly, as if that will somehow change the time, but she’s still five minutes late. The last five people he’s swiped right on using this godforsaken app have all stood him up, and at this point, his self-esteem and faith in humanity are in the gutter. 

But this one is only five minutes late, and he’s made it a rule to wait half an hour. So that’s what he’s going to do, and as five minutes become six, it seems to be working. 

That is, it works until he starts getting those migraines he always gets fifteen minutes before his vision is no longer his own, but someone else’s. 

Once a day, every day since he was nine, he’s opened his eyes, and for an entire minute, he sees another part of the world. He sees new colors, new sights, new places, but he never hears, tastes, or smells whatever he’s seeing. It’s a somewhat scary but beautiful mystery, and it had terrified the hell out of his parents when it first occurred. 

His first headache had made him collapse during a chorus concert in third grade, and his parents had immediately taken him to a doctor. As luck would have it, Ben’s soulmate had finally come into the world, and their bond had been activated. Once a day for the rest of his life, he was destined to see the world through her eyes for sixty seconds, no more, no less. 

Every day he sees snippets of her life, and now, twenty years later, he realizes she might even live in the same city as he does. If only she’d look in the mirror or at her ID just once while he’s got her eyes. If only he could find her and make the headaches go away—and meet his soulmate. He’s been trying to find her for what feels like forever but to no success. She’s always either sleeping—and he sees her dreams—or looking at something that can’t tell him what she looks like. 

He thinks she has tanned skin and dark hair, but it’s not as dark as his. He caught sight of it in the window of a subway car once, she’d been on a train bound for Manhattan, but unfortunately for him, the city they both seem to live in is so large that even knowing this does nothing to help him. 

Rechecking his watch, he prays that the headache passes before she gets here, before she sees what’s happening to him and gets freaked out by his abnormality. Technically other people experience this, too, but it’s rare enough that Ben knows people give him weird looks when he explains his horrible migraines to them. 

Time, however, is not on his side today. A deep voice tinged with a London accent is talking somewhere behind him, and he can hear her saying, “excuse me, excuse me,” over and over as she weaves her way through a small crowd of people. He’s just looking over his shoulder to watch her approach when she finally appears before him, and sits down, brushing her hair out of her face as relief floods him. 

Rey, twenty two, NYU student and psychology major, has arrived, and he hasn’t been stood up. 

“Sorry I’m so late, subway was a nightmare,” she says, and  _ fuck _ , he already likes her voice. He could probably listen to it all day if she’d let him. “I’m Rey.”

She holds her hand out, and he shakes it, laughing to assure her it’s okay, he’s just glad she’s shown up at all. “Ben,” he says, then they both let their hands fall. “This is probably not something I should tell you, but I’m really glad you showed up, the last five dates I’ve had backed out. Well, more like stood me up.”

“My last two did that, too. I wonder if there’s a cat fisher on the app or something,” she says, then she wiggles her fingers in front of him like she’s casting a spell. “Or ghosts.”

He snorts his laughter, then he shakes his head, and sighs. “Yeah, maybe, or they’re not as cool about me having a soulmate as you are.” A sympathetic look crosses her face as he speaks, and he can see her hand twitching like it wants to grab his. If she moves to take his hand, he’s not sure he’ll stop her. “I tell people I can see through my soulmate’s eyes once a day, and they usually freak out. I think that might have something to do with why I keep getting stood up.”

“That’s fucking shitty, I’m so sorry,” she replies, then she does reach out to take his hand, and her fingers are so warm when they wrap around his, that he feels at ease. His heart rate slows and a sense of peace washes over him. “If it helps, I have one, too. I don’t see through his eyes, but once a day I can feel everything he’s feeling.”

He blinks. “Everything?”

“Everything. Let’s just say he has nothing to compensate for,” she says, and if he had a drink, he would’ve spat it out. 

What he does instead is fall into a fit of laughter, one which he’s fortunate enough to find her joining him in a few seconds later as her thumb brushes over his knuckles. “I should also warn you, I get these headaches right before it happens, and I’ve been getting them for the last couple of minutes, so if I randomly just… don’t talk, that’s what’s happening.”

“You’re seeing through her eyes?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what you see when it happens, maybe we can find her together.”

“You’re my date, that’d be kind of weird if you helped me find someone else while I’m out with you.”

“Just trust me,” she says, then she looks down at his hand as she rubs her thumb over his fingers, like she’s studying them, memorizing them. “I have a theory.”

Before he can ask her what that means, the pain in his head goes from a dull, background him to a full blown ache. It feels like there’s pressure being applied to his brain from all sides, and he clenches his eyes shut for a second before he opens them, light blinding him for a few seconds before he opens them, blinks into focus, and realizes he’s looking at himself. 

There’s his shocked face, right in front of him. His mouth has fallen open, his pupils are dilated to the point where his irises are completely black—something he’s been told is normal with this kind of bond—and his body has started trembling. 

“Ben?” He can hear her voice echoing in his head, then her other hand rests over his, and he watches through her eyes as she squeezes his fingers between hers. “What do you see?”

His mouth opens and closes a few times, but nothing comes out, and he feels himself shake his head but he sees it from another perspective. It’s the most disoriented he’s ever felt. “Me… I see myself… it’s… Rey…”

“It’s me, isn’t it? You’re seeing through my eyes.” 

He nods, then he swallows, and there’s something  _ odd  _ about watching his Adam’s Apple bob as he does. “I think so,” he breathes, then he reaches up with his other hand so that he’s now holding her with everything he has as well. “But could you blink three times just to be sure?”

The laugh she gives him is musical, delighting him as she blinks thrice, and he sees his image be shrouded in darkness for three quarter second periods as she confirms for him that she is his soulmate. After years of searching after years of loneliness, he’s found her. Excitement surges through him, and he can’t even find the words to say what he wants to say to her, he can’t find the words to even think. His thoughts are a mess.  _ Ben  _ is a mess. He’s full of joy and light and he feels like he’s walking on air and he wants his fucking eyes back so he can look at her again. He wants to memorize her face immediately, he wants to know the face that evaded him for so many years and kept him in the dark from its beauty. 

Luckily, it happens ten seconds later, and as the headache fades away, he blinks her into focus, and observes a smile that could outshine the sun. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she whispers, and  _ god,  _ is that a tear forming in her eye? “I found you.”

He nods. “I found you,” he says, then he realizes something. “You know it was me, didn’t you? That’s why you asked me to tell you what I saw.”

“Not until I held your hand.” She squeezes his palm, and she lets that tear that’s in her eye fall onto her cheek and then onto the table. “I’ve been feeling these hands for all twenty two years of my life. I know these hands like I know my own.” Rey then separates their hands, and holds his open palms in hers. “The second I held your hand tonight I had a feeling it was you, but it took you telling me you were about to see through your soulmate’s eyes to be sure.” Another laugh. “God, I never thought—“

“Neither did I. You never looked in a mirror.”

“I hardly ever do,” she admits. “I’m so sorry, if I’d known I would’ve shamelessly looked at my reflection for two hours every day.”

He shakes his head as he reaches up a palm to caress her cheek. “No… no, it’s not your fault, we found each other eventually, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” she says, then she sniffles, and rests her hand over his. “I can feel you now.”

His breath hitches, and hers does in turn, and as he looks at his soulmate, he can’t help but grin from the pure joy he’s feeling. He finally feels complete, like he’s found the last piece of the puzzle that makes him up. “Do you want to get out of here? I feel like this place is a bit too crowded and I… I want to get to know you now that I’ve finally seen your face.”

“I want the same thing, now that I’ve finally held your hand,” she says, then she stands up, using the hand she’s still holding to pull him up with her. “So whose flat’s closest?”

“I live three blocks away.”

“Perfect,” she says, then she leans into his side, taking his arm as they weave their way out of the cafeteria, and into the busy city streets toward his house and the destiny that’s waited patiently for them for the past two decades. 


	6. What Rey Wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supreme Leader Kylo Ren wakes up one morning with the ability to hear ‘What Women Want’. It’s annoying, until he meets Rey a week later, on the battlefield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E
> 
> **not E for everyone

The thoughts in his head aren’t just his own anymore. Everything he hears in his brain belongs to a mix of people, but they all have one thing in common—they’re all women. 

For the past week, ever since they made a pit stop on Cantonica to check in with some allies there—and he’d gotten rather hammered with General Hux of all people, a mistake he won’t be making again—he’s been able to hear the thoughts of every woman in the First Order. In just seven days, he’s learned to appreciate the privilege of being a man. If he had to go through what some of them seem to be going through once a month, he would’ve fallen to the dark side a lot sooner. 

He wonders how Rey does it, but given the other bantha shit he knows she’s had to put up with in her life, he figures the cramps and bleeding are probably  _ nothing.  _

It feels like he’s tried everything to cure this. He has meditated for hours on end, gone to the med bay more times than he can count, and even asked people to stop thinking so loudly, but his thoughts are still plagued with theirs, and he curses his force sensitivity for wreaking this havoc upon his brain. 

At least, he sees it as a curse until about a week after Cantonica when he meets Rey in a fight through the force bond. Well, more like she was training and he interrupted it and she—of course—tried engaging him in a fight since she was already working with the blue blade. So he trains with her, both of them trying to win but not striking to kill. This is more about proving a point than achieving any meaningful victory. 

It’s ridiculous what they’re doing, engaging in this battle, sparring pointlessly as they get out whatever aggression they can through their locking blades. He finds it petty, and they could be doing a thousand other things with their time, but they’re here now and there’s nothing they can do to change that. 

Although, as the battle rages on, he suddenly finds himself distracted by a familiar tingle in the back of his head, and he groans out loud as he blocks her next strike. He’s about to hear her thoughts, and he’d thought he’d made his peace with knowing what other people were thinking, but now… now he doesn’t know what to do. 

_ This would be a lot more fun with you on your knees _ , is what slips through her thoughts first, and he’s so surprised, so taken aback, that he fails to block her next strike, and she singes his shoulder. 

Wincing in pain, Ben pulls himself together, trying not to read too much into her request to have him on his knees. He’s seen holos, he’s read books, he knows what the implications of such a statement are, and he can barely breathe as he realizes something very, very important. 

For the past several months since Crait, he’s been unable to push her from his thoughts. She haunts his mind at all hours of the day, and he sometimes even dreams of her. He dreams of her writhing beneath him, on top of him, his mouth on her, her mouth on him, their hands drifting  _ everywhere _ until they aren’t two people anymore, they’ve become one. 

Now he knows she’s been having the same thoughts. 

Their blades come together again, and he grunts from the strain of maintaining the blade-lock. 

Arousal leaks through the bond, followed by,  _ Fuck, I wish I could hear that sound in any other context,  _ and the mental image of himself on the floor of whatever jungle she’s in.  _ Make it again. Damn it, make it again _ .

Who is he to deny such a request? Ben grunts again as he pushes free from the blade-lock, and continues engaging her in the fight, continues pushing her back as he listens to every thought coming from her head. 

_ I hate you for making me want you, _ she thinks, then she’s pushing him back, and he stumbles backward until his back hits the wall, then he laughs as she puts her blade to his neck, and quirks her eyebrow at him. “Yield.”

“I yield,” he says, then she pushes off of him, and steps back, but he can still sense the lust coming off of her in waves. 

The image of himself standing on an island comes to his mind, and he realizes she’s thinking of one of the times the force had connected them while she was with Luke. She’s thinking about how she’d caught him without his shirt on all those months ago, and as her lightsaber deactivates and she hooks it onto her belt, he catches sight of a sheen of sweat developing on the back of her neck. 

_ Why do I still want you? _

“Rey,” he says after a few seconds go by, because he can’t let this go on, he can’t let her think these things without knowing he can hear them too. 

“Don’t speak.”  _ I want you to keep talking and never shut up, I want to hear you make speeches and tell me things you don’t mean, I want to listen to you talk for hours, I want to hear you say my name.  _

_ I want you on your knees.  _

It’s a barrage he’s not ready for, and he shivers as he realizes this is what she’s been thinking every time the force has connected them lately. He suddenly understands why she acts the way she does. What she feels for him isn’t loathing, she just wishes it was. “Rey, I need to tell you—“

_ Stop talking or I’ll take you to the floor right now, I swear on the force— _

“I can hear your thoughts!” he shouts, because he knows there’s no way for him to lead into this casually. He’s got to be blunt with it. He has no choice. “Rey, I can hear everything you’re thinking.”

_ No… _ Fear crosses her gaze as she looks at him, and she swallows nervously. “Everything?”  _ Do you know how wet I am? Do you know how much I want you? _

He shivers as he pictures the wetness between her thighs, pictures rubbing his fingers over it, through it, pushing into her, her lowering herself over him, sinking down onto his cock, and he nods. He knows how much she wants him. “I do,” he tells her, then he steps forward, and drops his lightsaber to the side, a gesture of good faith. “Rey, I know exactly how much you want me. You’re shouting it at me every second we’re talking.”

Her mouth falls open, lower lip quivering as she realizes that her thoughts of lust have been broadcast to him through this entire sparring round.  _ Get on the floor, touch me, if you can read my thoughts, give me everything I know we both want. _

Now he’s the one who’s shivering, but he sinks to the floor, watching as she reaches for the button of her pants, the laces of her boots, and he catches on quickly. He knows what she wants. Without saying another word, Ben undoes the clasp of his own pants, but unlike her, he doesn’t remove his boots, he doesn’t take them off all the way. He doesn’t have to. 

All he has to do now is watch her, attempt to keep his eyes on hers instead of the apex of her thighs as she walks over him, straddling his hips before she sinks down to his level, sitting in his lap as her hands come up to rest on his chest. For a few seconds, they stare at each other like that, and she watches his hands come up to support her hips as more thoughts of what she wants from this fill his head. “Do you know what I want now?”

He nods. “Yes,” he breathes, and he feels his whole body shake as she lets her hands slide down between them until they reach his cock. Just having her hands near his erection has him realizing he is achingly hard, and he wants this just as badly as she does. He might even want it  _ more.  _

_ Please let me touch you. _

“You can,” he whispers, guiding his hands up under her shirt so that they’re resting on her waist. “Touch me.”

She does, her hand wraps around his cock, and his head falls back against the floor, his back arching slightly as she begins stroking him. At first, she’s gentle, experimenting, explorative, but then she picks up her pace, and he will never be able to use his hands the same way again. 

This becomes particularly clear to him when she shifts, and her strokes slow, her thumb brushing over his tip once more before she’s positioning him at her entrance, and he finally wrenches his eyes away from hers just as she begins to sink onto him. The minute he finally gets the chance to watch her move, however, is the very moment he becomes hit with a wave of pleasure that forces him to close his eyes, to let the stars in his vision take over as he feels how wet she is, as she sheathes him in her cunt and he feels like he is drowning in her. 

He  _ wants  _ to drown in her. 

As per usual, he can’t see her surroundings, but he can feel the warmth of her sunlight. He can see the dappled light glowing off of her skin, and he’s struck by the sight of her. This isn’t exactly unusual, but he’s never seen her like this, vulnerable and open. There’s a sweetness in her gaze beneath the lust he senses, and he gets a wave of what else she wants from him. 

It’s not just sex. It never will be. 

_ Touch me _ , comes through her thoughts again, and as she begins to ride him, he does exactly that. This isn’t something he’s done before, but somehow, thanks to the way he can read her thoughts, he knows what to do. He tears off his gloves, then reaches down between them, and places his thumb on her clit, rubbing it in time with each thrust of her hips against his. 

The feeling it brings him is unreal. It’s better than anything he could’ve dreamed, and he whispers her name like it’s something holy as she rides him, as her hands wander over his shoulders into his hair. He starts whispering it and he can’t stop, he doesn’t stop until she bends down over him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss as she briefly slows her movements, taking the time to kiss the air from his lungs. 

She can have every molecule he has to give and more. 

_ Kiss me, _ she thinks, and he returns her kiss with fervor, kissing her as intensely as she wants him to, making both of their heads spin. When she breaks away again, he can’t even mourn her loss, he just becomes a whimpering mess—the exact opposite of the powerful supreme leader image he’s always projecting—beneath her as she writhes on top of him. 

This feels like nothing else he’s ever felt before, and within minutes, he knows he’s going to come apart, he knows he’s not going to last, but before he can think to tell her this, she sends him another thought that just about pushes him over the edge.  _ I’m close, Ben, I’m so close, I’m…  _ she warns him, and then he can feel her come undone around him, fluttering around his cock as she shouts his name. 

He’s already gone as she comes down from her high, he follows right behind her, saying her name one more time as she rides him through it, as she whispers encouragements both out loud and in her head, coaxing him through it. There’s something sort of gentle about it, and he wants to ask her what it means, he wants to know why this feels like more than just scratching an itch they’ve both had. 

“Rey…” he whispers as she slides off of him, already reaching for her trousers as she stares down at his still prone form. She throws on her trousers as he watches, and he finally begins to cover himself again, standing up as she begins putting on his boots. 

“Don’t worry, this won’t start anything,” she tells him. “I got an implant in a month ago.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that.” He steps towards her as she rises to her feet. “Rey, what was that?”

She almost looks sad as she rests a hand on his arm. “Something we can’t have,” she says, then she summons her lightsaber into her hand, and another thought rushes from her head to his—

_ I want more.  _

And the force has never been more cruel. In that moment, she fades away, and he’s left alone in his quarters burning with the ghost of her touch. He’s alone, fingers touching his lips gingerly as he realizes that everything has changed. 

Sure, he’s still on the other side of the galaxy and the war, but now he knows more than he ever has. Now, after so long wondering, he knows what Rey wants. 


	7. Falling Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the legacy saber explodes, Ben recovers first. Rey is passed out and Hux is there, checking if she is alive with his blaster in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


He wakes to a sea of embers and dizziness. The world is not quite on fire, but it almost is, and that’s enough to jolt him into reality before he’s certain he’s ready. He’s forced back into consciousness before he can remember what happened the last time he’d been awake.   


All he knows when his eyes burst open is that the room is rife with danger. Dread and anticipation cloud the air, and he feels a sense that someone—whether it is him or the Jedi he vaguely remembers having joined him on the ship—is in mortal peril. The thought terrifies him, and so he looks around the room, staring out the windows where Snoke’s intimidating red curtains are currently spilling their burning guts over a Star-filled sky. 

The body of his former master is lying in two on the throne, his upper half still haphazardly splayed across the base of it. Those lifeless eyes stare into nothing, and it fills him with a strange mix of emotions to see, but Snoke is dead. He is no longer a threat, not like whatever— whoever —has intruded on this room. Their presence replaces the darkness his death had cleared out, and he feels a deep, churning war of emotions in his gut that are telling him to run. 

His gaze falls on another part of the room, where he remembers Rey had been standing before the explosion of his grandfather’s lightsaber cast them apart. Regret and sorrow fill him as he remembers it, but before he can let them consume him, he’s taken aback by the sight of General Hux standing over her still unconscious form—at least, he assumes she’s alive, he swears he can see her breathing, can feel her in the bond that shouldn’t still exist—with a blaster in his hand. 

There’s the danger. It’s in the murder in Hux’s eyes, the sheer intent to kill that lets Kylo know that he has to act now or forever wish he had. He sits up with a groan, and the man before him briefly lets his gaze flicker to him, then his attention is back on Rey. “Ah, Ren,” he says, aiming the blaster, ready to shoot to kill. “You’re awa—“

The sentence is cut off by an abrupt wave of Kylo’s hand, and his general crumpled to the ground, unconscious. He won’t remember a thing of what just happened, he probably won’t even realize that he’s been knocked out, but as he and his blaster fall to the floor, he watches Rey’s chest rise and fall, and he knows what he has to do. 

He’d wanted her to stay here, to rule by his side, but he knows she doesn’t want that. It breaks his heart to acknowledge it, but it’s the truth. She wants to save her friends, and maybe a part of her does want to be with him, but she clearly doesn’t want this. If he’s going to do anything right today, it’s going to be letting her go. After all, it seems Hux and possibly others in his army will try to kill her anyway if she stays. 

That can’t happen. 

Kylo grunts as he begins to crawl to her side, reaching out into the force to assess her condition, to make sure she is truly alive and not a vegetable. Luckily, he finds that she is merely sleeping, rendered into this state by the splitting of the saber. She’s very much alive, and he thanks every star in the galaxy as he finally approaches her, reaching out tentatively with his gloved hand to caress her cheek as he shakes his head. 

For some reason, he almost feels like he wants to cry. Mostly because of what he knows he has to do—because he doesn’t want to lose her. 

“Rey?” he asks softly, hoping, praying to every deity he’s ever heard of that she’ll wake, because if he has to carry her to the escape shuttle, if he has to remember the day they met he might lose it. “Can you hear me?”

She sleeps soundly, never moving, never stirring, but as he smoothes a piece of hair from her face, she hums contentedly in her sleep. It occurs to him that something about this—the gentle touches, the comfort even in sleep—feels startlingly right. That thought sends shivers down his spine as he takes her face in both of his hands, thumbs stroking over the wet trails of the tears she’d been crying before the saber exploded, the ones he’d made her cry. 

Guilt seizes him in a vice grip for the words he’d said, for the way he’d tried to tell her she meant everything to him but accidentally made it seem like she wasn’t anything instead. He cursed his stupid mouth, his mind for the way he speaks, for the way he puts his foot in his mouth around her. She deserves better than him, and he knows this to be true. 

Barely resisting the urge to cry himself, he crawls away from her, looking around the floor to see if he can spot the pieces of the saber they’d broken. He finds them a few feet from where their bodies had landed, one side near where he had lain, and another by her feet. Summoning both halves into his hands through the force, he tucks them into the belt at her waist as best he can, and looks down at her unconscious form one more time. 

He knows the clock is running short for how much time they have left, and he has to move quickly, but he takes a moment to rest a hand over hers, squeezing it in the hopes that the motion might wake her up. It doesn’t, and he knows he needs to move now. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, Kylo reaches down, and scoops her up into his arms. It’s not fair. It’s beyond not fair, but he has to do this, he has to let her go. 

Once he’s got her securely into the carry he’d had her in when they’d first met in the forest on Takodana, he stands up, and looks down at her sleeping face. Unlike last time, she almost looks comfortable in his arms, and she shifts so that her face is leaning against his shoulder. He can sense her coming into wakefulness at that, and knows he must hurry, he must get her to the shuttle. 

Tears spring to his eyes as he begins walking out of the destroyed throne room. He spares another glance at the master he’d killed, the one he’d killed to save the woman in his arms. Not a hint of regret fills him over the death, but  force if he doesn’t feel regret over how Rey wound up unconscious. He feels like he’d been given an opportunity here and missed it. 

He missed it by a million miles. 

Rey stirs in his arms again, and he thinks he hears his name as her hand grasps limply at his tunic. It breaks his heart again, but he keeps going. Kylo has to get her to the escape shuttle before she wakes up. He doesn’t have the heart to hear her beg him to join her again, he knows he can’t. He’s not ready to cross that bridge just yet. 

Just a few more seconds and he’ll be there, and he both looks forward to having her in the shuttle and wishes it isn’t happening. The urge to ask her to join him again is strong, but every time he remembers how she’d tried to pull her lightsaber on him he doesn’t feel like trying his luck. He just wishes that Rey had trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t have forced her to stay. 

That’s probably what’s tearing up his heart the most. That she didn’t trust him after all they’d been through. He understands why she didn’t trust him, but after they’d touched hands, after he’d felt warmth, light, and love for the first time in  years by that fire he’d thought they’d come to an understanding. 

Apparently they are both wrong in their assumptions about each other. 

Kylo reaches the escape shuttle at long last a few seconds later, using the force to press the button that will open the doors before he carries her inside, and makes his way toward the cockpit. It’s a short aisle with only a couple of rooms on either side designed for comfort in the case of an unexpected trip, and he crosses it in two long strides before he opens the next door. 

As he walks into the cockpit, he looks down to see Rey is blinking awake, groaning as she comes into consciousness, and he moves even faster as he sets her down in the pilot’s seat, and begins strapping her in. He tries not to let himself look at her face as he moves, as he starts the ignition sequence for her ship, but after just a few more seconds he can feel her gaze on him, and panic fills their bond for a few seconds before he finally does look up and meets her gaze. 

In his eyes he knows she can read his intent, she can see what he’s trying to do, and through the bond she can sense his emotions, she can sense that he’s in pain but he is not intending to cause her harm because of it. He’s her enemy now on the opposite side of a war, but he doesn’t hate her. 

He never really has. 

“Ben?” she asks, her voice breaking as she says it, and he nearly breaks himself upon hearing the name his parents had given him. 

“You’re in Snoke’s escape craft,” he tells her, not acknowledging the name she’s just spoken. “I’ve strapped you in and started the engines, but that won’t do you any good if you don’t know how to fly?”

She nods. “I know how to fly.”

“Good,” he says, then he gets back to work, flicking a few switches over her head that he knows she’s not awake enough to hit yet. “I’ll finish starting it for you then… I’ll leave. You’ll be free to go wherever you wish.”

Rey sputters a few times as she tries to find the words to say, but through the force he gets this feeling that she’s about to reject that idea. “W-what? No, Ben, I—“

“I can’t come with you.” He rests a hand on her forearm, trying not to let himself get distracted by how her eyes flicker down to that hand as she watches him. “You just tried to pull a lightsaber on me, I know we want different things, and I am not  ready  to come with you.”

“You can be.”

“I can’t. Rey, I’m trying to let my past die, this isn’t… this won’t let me do that.”

She scowls at him, but he notices she doesn’t pull away from his touch. She stays, lingering at his side. It’s a curious mystery he senses will only grow curiouser. “Ben, you don’t have to—“

“I’ve made up my mind, Rey,” he tells her, then he looks around the cockpit. “This ship is ready to go, you’re free to leave.”

He then moves to stand, but then one of her hands comes up to caress his cheek, and she shakes her head. “Don’t go.”

“We don’t have much time, I left Hux unconscious in the throne room. I’ve bought you enough time to escape, but if he wakes up and realizes I’m not there…”

“Ben…”

Feeling a lump rise to his throat, Kylo leans forward, and places a gentle kiss to her cheek, placing his free hand over the ghost of that kiss seconds later. “Go.”

“But—“

This time, he knows he has to make it as clear as he possibly can. He’s been thinking about this since they were in the lift, since she’d stepped into his space, and he’d wondered if she would’ve moved away if he leaned in closer. If he’s ever going to get an opportunity like this again, he doesn’t know. All he knows is this may be the last time he sees her, the last time either of them see each other for quite a while, and so he leans in, and presses his lips to hers before she can get another word out. 

Rey is shocked initially, and he feels her freeze up, her entire body going still. At first he fears its because she doesn’t want this—because she doesn’t want him to kiss her and he’d misread everything that’s transpired between them since she’d come to him with her story of what had happened in the cave. 

That’s when  she  surprises  him . Her hand comes up to support the back of his head as she returns the kiss, and he feels like the ground has been swept out from under him. Out of all the things he’d thought would happen, he’d never expected this. He thought he’d pull away before she could respond and just leave her speechless in the cockpit, but…

Rey is responding to him. She’s kissing him in a way he’d only ever thought was a myth. It’s soft and sweet, and it makes butterflies start fluttering around in his stomach, and he wants it to last forever. He wants to stay on his knees, knelt down by her side forever, he almost even wants to follow her to the Resistance, but he can’t. He isn’t ready. 

Maybe  he  is the one who’s still holding on. 

Through the bond, he can sense an odd mix of joy, affection, and longing that mingles with sorrow, grief, and pain and he hates that she has to feel any of it, any of the emotions that belong to the dark. He wants to kiss away her misery, he wants to make it all disappear, but he knows he can’t. 

Their time is running out, and he knows it’s running out, but Kylo can’t bring himself to let her go yet. Tears spring forth from his eyes, falling onto his cheeks as he prepares himself to pull away. He has to… he has to pull away, doesn’t he? But  shit , he doesn’t want to, her lips are soft against his, they fit together perfectly, and the way they move… it’s like they were always meant for this, like she was made for him and he was made for her. 

They can’t stay. 

His lungs eventually begin to protest, and Kylo pulls away as more tears spill out onto his cheeks, then he takes hers in his hands, and presses his forehead against hers. “You have to go,” he tells her, even as his heart breaks to say it. “They’re waiting for you.”

“You’re going to kill them, aren’t you?”

He says nothing, because he isn’t sure what he’s going to do. He feels anger running through his veins along with the sorrow. Right now he’s a powder keg of emotions, and he doesn’t know what’s going to come next, he just needs her to run. He won’t let Hux kill her. That’s about all he  does  know. “Go,” he says eventually, then he kisses her forehead, and tries not to read too much into the way she’s looking at him. 

It’s like she’s seeing him for the first time, like she’s understanding who he is, like she doesn’t loathe what she’s seeing—almost as if she cares for him. “Ben…”

“I…” He knows what he wants to say but he’s not sure he’s ready to say it. This is too soon, he can’t tell her what he’s feeling now, he just needs to find a way to tear himself away from her before she can look at him with those pleading eyes and get it out of him. So he makes a mistake instead. “Fly safe.”

Then as she stutters her response, he rises, and makes his way from the cockpit before she can protest, before he can tell her those three little words he’s not ready to say and she’s not ready to hear. He practically runs from the escape shuttle, he runs faster than he ever has in his entire life, and he doesn’t stop running until he’s in the throne room again. 

Only when he’s looking at Hux’s unconscious body and Snoke’s dead one does he stop. Only when he hears the sound of the shuttle departing its station does he let himself blink more tears from his eyes and look out the window to see Rey leaving him behind. 

His heart feels like it’s been torn in half, and part of it is on that shuttle with her, but he knows there wasn’t a right decision here, there was only a vaguely less terrible choice that could’ve been made. Now he has to live with this choice—with himself. Regret is filling him for letting his fear take him over, for letting her leave him behind, for not going with her. 

He regrets everything that’s ever led him to this moment, and he can’t even blame anyone but himself. Kylo sinks to his knees, his head falling into his hands as the self-loathing he knows all too well kicks in, and he feels more trapped than ever. He’d thought he’d be free by killing Snoke, he was wrong. 

He’s never felt so alone, and this time, he doesn’t have Rey there to assure him he isn’t. There’s just him, Hux, and the decaying body of the former supreme leader, but she’s out there somewhere, she’s alive, and he knows based on that alone that he will see her again. 

Someday, no matter how far away that day is, he’s going to find her again, and he won’t be alone anymore because they will be ready. He will be ready to come back to the light, to stop falling on the dark like it’s a crutch. All he can do now is let time pass, let the stars align, and keep living as best he can.   


He’ll see her again, the time will come for them to be together, he just has to be willing to wait for it. 


	8. Until the Sun Comes Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey doesn't expect to find her terrible boss lying on a heap of leaves in the park because he's so done with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M  
mostly because I can't stop swearing.  


There are a thousand ways Rey’s night should’ve gone. After leaving the office Christmas party, she’d thought that she’d board the train Eastbound toward home and get some god damn sleep, but as she walks through the park that night, as she walks past the water fountains, the lights, and the trees, those plans all go right to hell. 

They’re sent to hell because just this once she happens to look over at the patches of grass where construction workers use leaf blowers to make piles of leaves so that said leaves don’t crowd the sidewalk. It’s kind of stupid, in Rey’s opinion, but tonight, she isn’t looking at the leaves, she’s looking at the man lying on top of them. 

He has just come from the same party she has. Well, technically he left an hour earlier, but he should be home by now. Instead, Ben Solo, scourge of the world and prime asshole boss, is currently picking at the leaves beneath him with one hand while the other props up his head, and he stares out at where the stars would be if it weren’t for the light emitted by the city. The sight of him is baffling. Of all the people she’d expect to catch lying in a pile of leaves in the middle of the night, he isn’t one of them. 

Not that she has a list in the first place. 

For a moment, she freezes, looking at the train station ahead then looking back at Ben. She wants nothing more than to just go home and forget this happened, but  _ god _ there’s something that’s keeping her pinned where she is. Going back home feels wrong somehow, like there’s an alarm in the back of her head that says leaving him behind like this is a mistake. 

Even if he is a royal dick sometimes. 

The pavement clicks under her boots as she approaches him, her pace slowing as she approaches the grass like she’s afraid of how he’ll react. Will he tell her to fuck off or go away or will he assure her nothing’s wrong and she can leave? 

She doesn’t know, all she knows is there’s something in his eyes that’s concerning, that it feels wrong to leave him behind when he’s like this, even if he’s usually a massive dick to everyone around him. “Ben!”

His head turns in her direction, and he looks so miserable that she is almost taken aback by it. What’s happened to him today? When she’d seen him at the party he wasn’t overcome by joy, but he didn’t look so distraught. “What are you doing here?”

“Walking to the train, I take the Blue line home… what’s going on with you?” she asks, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she finally reaches him, looking down at his prone form as he stares at the sky. “Why are you lying in the middle of the park?”

He scoffs. “Why do you care?”

“Because it’s not every night you catch your fucking boss lying on his ass in the park when it is…” She opens up her phone with her fingerprint, then checks the weather app. “Two degrees above freezing.”

Ben rolls his eyes, then he sighs as he crosses one leg over the other. “Coat’s thick,” he says, then he looks at her again. “You don’t have to stay.”

She blinks at him, trying to figure out how to answer that, because it sounds like he’s lying, almost as if he’s using reverse psychology, and he’s begging her to stay. “Maybe I’m worried about you.” 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, why are you out here?” Rey gestures around them, pointing out the lack of any other human beings or things one could do in the park. “Why are you on the ground?”

At this, she watches his face fall, and for a moment, all they can hear is an overwhelming silence that threatens to take over everything. She can hear the water fountain in the background, torrents of nearly frozen liquid spilling from it at every second of the day, and there’s a breeze rustling the leaves of the trees around them, but other than that, it’s deathly silent. 

It’s almost as if the world is holding its breath in anticipation of what he’s about to say. 

“I’m just tired,” he admits after a while, then he finally holds her gaze. “I’m so tired.”

“Of what?”

“Everything. Every single day, morning to night, I come into work, I do the same job, I wear the same fucking clothes, I wish the janitor a good night, and I leave. Every holiday party I pretend to be happy for a few hours because at least I’m not doing the same shit I always do, but I still feel  _ nothing. _ ”

Surprise fills her as he opens up to her, and it’s so unexpected, she’s tempted to ask Ben if he’s drunk, but she knows he hardly ever drinks and he’s speaking so clearly he has to be sober. He isn’t drunk, he’s just…  _ sad.  _ “And that’s why you’re out in the park in the middle of the night?” she asks, kneeling down by his side, tempted to reach out but not knowing whether he’d want her to or not. “Because you want to feel something?”

“I don’t know what I feel. I’m just—“ He takes in a deep breath. “I’m just really done with life right now. I hate the way it’s going.”

Alarm bells go off in her head at this. “Ben, do you need me to call someone?”

“I don’t have anyone.”

It’s in that moment that her heart breaks for him, that she feels tempted to cry because no one should have to go through what he’s going through right now. She thinks about the asshole he always acts like as he storms around the office. Has this all just been because he was actually, genuinely miserable all along? Had it been a silent cry for help that no one had picked up on? “That’s not true,” she assures him, then she sits down, and rests her hand on his arm. “I’m here.”

“You are.”

“Ben, I—I’m going to stay with you for a while, okay? I know we don’t know each other too well, but we’re… we’re gonna have a chat.” She rubs his arm gently with her thumb, surprised by the smooth, hard muscle she finds beneath the layers of his coat. “Because I’m not leaving you in the park alone like this.”

At this, he turns his head, and before she knows it, his hand is covering hers. There’s a glove covering it, but she can still feel its warmth through the wool, and its touch is shockingly tender. “Why do you care?” he asks her again, like the idea of anyone giving a shit about him is baffling. She feels a lump form in her throat as she realizes that even though he has everything, even though he’s in charge of this branch of First Order Enterprises, he is just as lonely as she is. 

Like him, she comes into work, does the same old shit every day, goes for drinks with Finn and Poe after, and collapses on her couch while watching marathon episodes of  _ Scandal _ . Like him, she spends her nights alone, and desperately wishes she didn’t have to. 

“Because I’ve been here. I’ve never gone out and just sat on my ass in the park, but I’ve been here. I know this loneliness you’re feeling, and—you’re not alone,” she promises him, then she squeezes his hand. “So I’m gonna stay here. Until you decide you’re ready to get up and go home, I’ll stay with you.”

He swallows, blinking rapidly, almost as if he’s trying to hold back tears himself for a moment, then he nods. “Okay.”

“Great.”

“Lie down with me.”

“What?”

“It’s cold, if we’re going to be out here, we should share body heat so we don’t freeze to death,” he says, then he shrugs. “The temperature’s only going to keep dropping.”

Rey rolls her eyes, but reluctantly drops to the ground beside him, turning onto her right side as she faces him, and he adjusts himself, wrapping the arm she’d been touching a minute ago around her shoulders as he pulls her in close. This is perhaps a touch too intimate for a boss and employee relationship, but considering she’s only one step below him and he needs approval from the CEO to fire her, she takes the risk, she lets her head rest on his arm, and wraps her arm around his chest. 

Instantly, she’s warmed by his heat, he’s like a convection oven, and he makes her forget that the temperature is dropping so fast that she can see her breath for a moment as she looks up at him, and gives him a tiny smile. “This better?”

“Much,” he says, then he laughs to himself. 

“What’s so funny?”

“This is different.” There’s a look in his eyes now, like some of the light is returning to them. “Just lying here in this stupid, filthy ass park holding you? It feels different. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like my entire body just feels more… alive somehow.”

“Are you sure that’s not just the cold getting to you?” she asks, and  _ shit,  _ she can feel his heart beating in this position, she can feel it pounding beneath her arm as he looks up at the sky again. 

This time, he’s the one who’s smiling. “No. I think… I think I finally broke the loop.” His eyes flicker back over to hers again, and he puts a hand gently on her arm. “I think—I think that might be it. I just need to start doing something different every night. I need to break the routine.”

“Are you sure?”

He thinks for a few seconds, and the wind blows a piece of hair into his eyes that he’s quick to swipe away before he turns his head to look at her. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“So what are you going to do tomorrow night, then? It’s supposed to snow, I don’t think you’ll want to be caught outside in the snow.”

“No, the park will definitely be off limits tomorrow night,” he replies, then he hums quietly to himself, as if he’s thinking about his next move, like everything he says is a chess strategy. “But the Sundial won’t be.”

A blush creeps up her cheeks that she’s not entirely sure has anything to do with the cold as she gives him an inquisitive stare, wondering what he could possibly want with an overpriced restaurant like that. What he could possibly want with a restaurant whose real value is found in the views it offers them of their city. “You’re going to the Sundial tomorrow night? Alone? Isn’t that kind of sad?”

“It’s not sad if I’m not alone,” he says, then the hand on her arm caresses her cheek, but it doesn’t press into her skin. It almost seems to linger, as if it’s afraid to actually touch her. “What if you came with me?”

Another almost laugh escapes her, and she blinks at him, bewildered by what he’s proposing but not off put by it. “Came with you? What like on a date?”

“Why not?” he asks, then he shrugs, pointing to the top of the skyscraper he wants to take her to tomorrow night. “We’ll go up there, you and me, and we’ll look out over the city while we eat and for once, everything won’t be the same.” He shifts again, his hand falling to her shoulder now. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, I just figured… this way we won’t have to be alone.”

“What if it does mean something? What if by the end of it we decide it’s more than just an excuse to spend time together?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He leans forward then, his breath visible in the cold air as he lowers his voice to a whisper. “What do you say?”

Rey shakes her head, but she’s smiling as it becomes a nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, then she laughs softly as she pulls him a little closer, needing that extra bit of his warmth as she gives him her answer. “I’ll go with you tomorrow night.”

The smile he gives her is oddly endearing as he leans forward, then Ben presses a tiny kiss on her forehead, short and sweet, making it clear he doesn’t want anything more from her unless she asks him. “Let’s stay here a little longer. It’s kind of nice now that you’re here.”

“You’re a flatterer.”

“Maybe,” he replies, squeezing her arm again as he tries to stay warm himself. “I’ll drive you home after so you don’t have to take the train if you want.”

“... Deal.” 

And with that, they lie there for the next few minutes, not even saying anything just holding each other, letting the night pass them by as two lonely people learn how to enjoy another person’s company in the dim glow of the christmas lights adorning the trees. Several times, Rey almost falls asleep in his arms, but when he decides he’s finally ready to go home, she’s wide awake, and when he offers her his hand to pull her up from the ground, she’s relieved that the whole walk to his car, he never lets it go. 

He never even lifts a finger from hers, he twines them together, and for the first time, she starts to believe that maybe, just maybe, they might have freed each other from their old, boring routines. She starts to believe that they won’t be alone again, and that for once, she might be able to start looking forward to every new day—even when she’s at work. 

She starts to believe that at long last, she will never be alone again.


	9. Big Happy Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After The Last Jedi, redeemed Ben Solo finds his calling in life mothering baby Porgs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


The Falcon lands on the island on Ahch-To in the middle of the afternoon. Ben knows what time it is solely because that’s when one of the suns’ light streams into the window of the hut he’s called his own, and strikes the mirror at the far end of the room, beaming right into his eyes. He turns away as he covers his face with his blanket, ignoring the familiar sound of the engines that approach him. 

The little creatures snuggled up under the blankets with him squeak quietly in protest. 

Muttering his quiet apologies, he begins to scratch the head of one of the tiny creatures, whispering softly to it as he kisses the top of its head. The tiny thing keeps squawking, though, keeps making noises as it ruffles its feathers right in his face in protest. 

A groan escapes him as he realizes all over again that his job, that mothering these baby porgs, is tedious but necessary. He loves them like they’re his own children, and like any good parent, he wouldn’t trade what he has for the world, but just once he wants a good night’s sleep, he wants them to rest through the Falcon’s landing. 

Or maybe his fiancé could land his father’s bastard ship a little more quietly. 

Another porg trills softly against his chest, and he rubs its back as gently as he can with his thumb, begging it to go back to sleep. In the background, he can hear the Falcon’s engines shutting down, indicating that Rey has landed and he’ll soon be joined by his partner and baby porg co-parent. The thought brings a smile to his face as the porg resting against it begins to climb into the nest that is his sleep-mussed hair. 

This one’s going to be a troublemaker when it grows up, he can tell. 

In the force, he can sense the light that radiates from Rey as she disembarks from the falcon, and relief floods his entire body even as his porg children begin crawling all over it as they wake up. She’d only been gone two days to get things ready for their wedding with his mother, but these days, after all they’d been through, even that felt like a lifetime. 

And raising all these porgs was a difficult enough task without her by his side. He needed her, but even with Rey gone sometimes, he was very glad he had them. They fill any void left in his heart by her absence, just like he’s sure he fills the voids left in them by their biological parents disappearing. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship he has with them, and in spite of how annoying his little gaggle of children can be, he loves them with his entire heart. 

A few seconds later, light floods his room as the other owner of his most vital organ walks in, and instantly he’s taken by the sound of her laughter. “Rascal’s in your hair,” she tells him as she walks in, and he turns his head, hearing the porg that’s still in his hair squawk as he does so, but he has to look at her. “Looks like he’s stuck, too.”

Ben chuckles softly to himself as he feels around for the little feathered creature in his hair, and slowly, carefully, pulls it from his waves. “Rascal, huh?” he asks, then he looks up at his fiancé as she crosses the room. “We’re giving them names now?”

“Maybe not all of them.” She sits down beside him, causing a good two or three porglets to scatter, squaking as they avoid being crushed. “But I’ve found this one in your hair for several mornings in a row now, and I’m sure he’s done it plenty over the past two days since I’ve been gone.”

The corners of his mouth twitch up in a smile, then he sits up, causing their porg children to scatter again as he sweeps the woman he loves into his arms, her shrieks of delight blending in with the squeaking of the creatures surrounding them. Once she’s secure in his grasp, he adjusts himself while she’s still laughing, his hand coming up to caress her jaw before he pulls her in for a reunion kiss. 

All at once, though he never left, he feels like he’s home again. It’s like he’s a whole person after being torn in half, and he breathes her in because she feels as good as oxygen. The light streaming in from the window grows brighter, but it no longer bothers him because now he’s got  _ her.  _ Now she’s back, and until his mother demands one of them again, she’s not going anywhere. 

In that moment, he wants nothing more than to melt into the kiss, to melt into her and everything she has to give him, but he can’t. All around them, the seven porglets they watch over are squawking now that they’re awake, and even the one in his hair is causing a riot, and it forces them to break apart as they realize it’s breakfast time. 

“You prepare food for them yet?” Rey asks as she pulls the porg she’d called Rascal out of his hair, and cradles the little guy in her arms. “They sound hungry.”

“It’s always ready I just have to hide it from them,” he tells her, then he gestures to a little hole in the floor that he keeps covered to prevent their adopted children from getting into it in the night. “Otherwise they make a mess with it.”

Rey shorts as she brushes his hair out of her face with her free hand, Rascal already falling asleep in the other. “Mmm even cleaning up porg shit sounds better than what your mum’s had me doing.”

“Oh yeah? What’s she torturing you with this time?” Ben asks as he gets up, and removes the little carpet covering the hole he’s made in the floor. 

“Dresses. She’s got me trying on layers of lace and silk and I’ve never worn anything  _ like _ that so…” She shakes her head and laughs as he pulls out the little pot he’s kept the porgs’ food in, and brings it over to the far side of the hut where seven little plates wait for them. “It’s baffling to me. I never thought I’d get married much less have a big wedding.”

Ben groans as he begins to serve the porglets’ food. “It doesn’t make you regret agreeing to marry me, does it? I know my mother can be—“

Rey shushes him as the little porglets squak about on his bed. “Not one bit. Ben, I’m marrying you for everything you are. The good parts and the bad. Your mother making me try on dresses and stealing us both away for days at a time to plan this wedding? I don’t mind it.”

“You don’t?” he asks, brushing off his hands as he finishes his task, then looks up at her. “You sure?”

Still cradling Rascal in one arm, Rey shakes her head as she walks toward him. “You should know by now, I’d do anything for you,” she says as the baby porgs descend in a herd from the bed, and make their way down to the food. “And besides, after this wedding is over I just get to spend my days with you if I wish. I never have to wear a dress again or pick out the color of the lights we’ll have shining down on us as we say our vows. It’ll just be you and me.” She sets down the porglet in her arms as she talks, watching him as he flutters away to eat with his brothers and sisters. “I think I can handle a little primping in the name of making you my husband.”

Ben laughs as they sit back, and watch the porglets eat. “Why don’t we just run off and elope? Why don’t we just say our vows right here, right now?” He leans in, and presses a kiss to her temple as she laughs. “I’m sure we could find a piece of string, tie it around our hands, and declare ourselves officially married.”

She’s still laughing as she leans forward, and kisses his cheek. “Because after everything you put her through, you owe your mother this, you owe her the big wedding she always wanted for you as a child.” She kisses him again on the corner of his mouth. “And it’s just three more weeks, Ben. Three more weeks then we take the porglets into the Falcon and we can finally get married.”

Ben groans softly as he leans into her touch, looking down at the family they’ve built on their tiny little island. It’s a beautiful thing they’ve got; something he’d never thought he’d have. Even before he’d fallen to the dark, he never thought he’d end up settling down with anyone, least of all a fiery scavenger from Jakku with an affinity for wielding a light-saber. He’d never thought he’d be married and raising a family of porgs, happier than any other man in the galaxy. He’d never thought he’d have any of this. 

His fiancé is right. They are already fortunate enough to have what they do, and he can’t argue with her about it. He can’t even begin to try. “Fine,” he breathes a second later. “You’re right. We’ll get married the old fashioned way.” 

“Yeah?” She turns to face him, a wide grin on her face as she presses her forehead against his. “You mean that?”

“I do,” he promises her. “For you, I’d do anything.”

“Good,” she whispers, then she’s kissing him again, and he barely holds back a giggle as he returns the kiss, the daylight warming their faces as the suns of Ahch-To begin to rise, and the new day officially begins. 

They are now one day closer to their wedding, one day closer to the life they fought so hard to live, and Ben can’t wait to see where it leads them. He can’t wait to see their porgs grow up. He can’t wait to live out the rest of his days traversing the galaxy with her. 

But most of all, he can’t wait to tell the woman in his arms “I do.” He can’t wait to finally be able to marry her. 


	10. Shut the Fuck Up and Kiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right before they break up, Rey's ex tells her she is a shitty kisser. What should a girl do? Of course, practice on her roommate with very kissable lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E
> 
> Kinda deviated slightly from this one, but I think it's okay because it feeds into the fandom's obsession with Ben eating Rey out. So it's fine, it's absolutely fine.

Netflix binges were the number one cure for a broken heart. Hearing all the jokes of a romantic comedy between sniffles might’ve lifted her spirits some, but her heart still hung heavy with the memory of the last thing her ex had said to her. 

It was something she’d repeated to her poor roommate, Ben, fifty times now, and as the couple onscreen locked lips she felt compelled to do it again. Rey bit her lip, attempting to keep herself quiet so he didn’t have to hear her tirade again, but she looked over at him and saw that knowing look in his eyes, and she just couldn’t hold it back. 

“A bad kisser! A year of half-assed cunnilingus, and he has the  _ audacity  _ to fucking call me a bad kisser. Me!” She couldn’t stop herself, it was about the fortieth time she’d said this, but it was like that whole word vomit thing from  _ Mean Girls _ . Once she’d started she couldn’t exactly stop. “He’s so full of shit. I am an  _ awesome  _ kisser. I am  _ phenomenal.  _ He should consider himself  _ lucky  _ that he got to kiss me.”

The tirade came to a natural end a few seconds later, and she looked over to see Ben covering his mouth to hide his amusement. “You feel better?”

“Much.”

“Can I be blunt with you?” He removed his hand from his mouth, and placed it on her knee. An inexplicable rush of heat rose to her face, and she prayed she wasn’t visibly blushing. She wasn’t sure if she could handle Ben catching her blushing. It was too soon after her last romantic blunder. 

Nodding a bit nervously, Rey leaned toward him, and propped her arm up on the back of the sofa, hoping to appear as casual as possible. “What’s up?”

“Why are you so fixated on the kissing thing? I mean, you told me his other reasons were that he just wasn’t in love with you, and to me that sounds more upsetting than being told I’m a bad kisser.” He bit his lower lip, drawing her eyes right to where his skin was being pulled through his teeth as he released it, and suddenly she became aware that her roommate had very, very kissable lips. They were a work of fucking art, actually. “It’s none of my business, but I was curious.”

“No, no it’s fine, I just…” She briefly glanced back at the movie that they’d started to ignore. “I don’t know, I figured at the bare minimum I could walk away and remember our kisses fondly because I personally thought we were  _ fantastic  _ at making out, but I guess I was wrong.”

Ben smirked at her, and again she became aware that he had really nice lips. That mouth was fucking  _ designed _ for kissing. He was probably excellent at it, but she was pretty sure her chances for any sort of kiss were shot the second she’d come home complaining that her ex had dumped her in part because he thought she was a bad kisser. “Not to be blunt again, but given how many times you’ve complained about what he said, I’m very curious about whether or not you’re  _ actually  _ a bad kisser.”

Her heart started doing double time in her chest. “Oh?”

“You don’t have to, but since I have a burning need to test this theory that my roommate is a terrible kisser, would you please—“

“Oh my god,” she breathed, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Ben, please shut the fuck up and kiss me. You don’t need to explain yourself.”

“Oh, okay.” Then with a nervous swallow, he began to lean forward, and before she could process what was happening, Ben was kissing her. 

The first thing she noticed was that those lips were twice as good as she thought they were. They were so fucking soft, they caressed hers like they were always made to fit together. It didn’t feel like an invasive kiss, it felt soft and sweet, whereas with her ex it had sometimes felt like he was trying to swallow her whole. This felt natural, like it was effortless. It was like they didn’t even have to try. 

She then noticed the fireworks, like something out of a romcom she could see them behind her eyes, could see all the colors of the dots that clouded her vision and made it seem like they were glowing. Bursts of light seemed to surround her even though none of them actually existed. 

It felt electric, like every single nerve in her body was a wire and it was now alive. This feeling only intensified as Ben began to press her back into the sofa, his body leaning over hers as they descended together, silently telling each other what they wanted; what they were okay with. 

His kisses broke away from her mouth, beginning to trail down onto her neck as his fingers reached for the toe of her pajama bottoms. At first she was kind of confused, but then she remembered that she’d been complaining about half-assed cunnilingus, and Ben seemed very curious to try and prove something to her. Realizing this made her entire body feel hot as she felt him leave a bruise in her skin, then he pulled off of her, and she looked up at him through the curtain of hair that had fallen into his face. 

Brushing away his waves so she could look into his eyes, she laughed even as she was panting harder than she ever could’ve imagined. “So? What’s the verdict?”

“What verdict?” he asked, as if he had somehow forgotten the reason why he’d kissed her, and just allowed himself to get lost in it. Maybe he had. 

“Am I a bad kisser?”

“What?” It came to him a second later, and he remembered why he’d kissed her in the first place. “Oh, um, no you’re great at this. You’re a fucking amazing kisser, Rey.”

“Really?”

“I can’t lie to you after that. It was… incredible, honestly,” he told her, then his fingers began sinking beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. “Your ex was a piece of shit.” He pressed a kiss over the clothed swell of her breast, and Rey’s heart started pounding all over again. It probably wasn’t healthy. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Definitely,” he said, then he paused as he began tugging down her pants. “Wait, is this okay? Cause you mentioned he half-assedly ate you out, and I think that’s a fucking cri—“

“It’s okay, just stop talking and do it,” she told him, then he laughed as he kept descending his kisses along the line of her body, making her laugh in turn. “Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?”

“A few people, yeah.” And that was the last thing he said as he pulled her pants all the way off, then she kicked them off to the side, accidentally slinging them over the television so that neither of them could see the movie they were no longer watching. 

_ What a shame.  _

Once the pants were gone, Ben crawled back between her thighs, guiding them to rest against his shoulders as she crossed her ankles over his upper back, then he began pressing soft little kisses on her inner thighs. It occurred to her that everything about her roommate was soft, sweet, that the man who’d only ever been a friend to her over the past eight months since they’d been living together was already a better lover than her ex had ever been. Just him kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs was enough to nearly send her over the edge, and her head fell back against the cushion of the sofa as she hummed contentedly. “Oh god, Ben…”

He laughed softly as his tongue finally licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, and she gasped as she buried her hands in his hair, gripping it like it was the only thing that could tether her to reality. Especially when he did it again and again, when he swirled his tongue around her and made her sigh his name. After the shitty, shitty day she had, she was having trouble believing that this was real. There was no way that after all the half-assed effort her ex had put into—well— _ anything  _ physical they did together she’d managed to find someone who put in  _ every  _ bit of effort just hours after being dumped. 

And yet she had. 

“Hey, Ben?” she asked, then she moaned softly as he pressed one of his fingers inside of her. “What is this? Is this just a one time thing or are you gonna buy me a drink after?”

“Up to you, really,” he replied, then he flicked her clit with his tongue again, causing her back to arch ever so slightly off the sofa. “But if you don’t mind I wouldn’t hate making this a regular thing. You dated this guy for what, a year? That’s a year of lazy, sloppy sex that you’re entitled to catch up on.”

“Entitled, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he whispered against her cunt as he continued pumping his finger in and out of her. “Didn’t you tell me to shut the fuck up though?”

“I did yes, so please do that.”

Both of them got a giggle out of that before he resumed his work, sucking her clit between his lips as she sighed beneath him, whispering his name over and over again as she forgot about the last year of her life, forgot about her shitty ex and his shitty oral skills. All there was now was Ben, and he was actually rather spectacular at this. His tongue explored her thoroughly, leaving no part of her untouched, and every time it swirled around her clit she saw stars in her eyes. 

He made her feel good. He made her feel worshipped. He made her feel like a fucking  _ queen _ , and that was something she’d been deprived of for far too long. 

Swears that would send her directly to hell fell from her lips, and she panted heavily as she felt pressure building inside of her. She was going to come apart at any second, he just had to do the right thing, make the right move, and it would all be over. Already she was wondering how it would feel when he made her come. Would the orgasms be better with him, too? Would everything feel different— _ be  _ different—with him in control?

Rey had no idea, but she was excited, she was enthralled by the prospect of coming against his mouth, and just thinking about it brought her right to the edge. Several high pitched, short, sharp noises left her mouth, and she became aware that Ben knew just how close she was as he continued his ministrations. Just one more right move…

His finger curled inside of her, reaching a place she couldn’t normally reach without help, and she finally came. Her roommate’s name left her lips in a whimper as he continued licking hungrily at her clit through it all, driving her to the brink of insanity, to the brink of falling into a pit she could never escape from before he brought her back down from her high slowly, gently, and her vision finally stopped swimming. 

When she finally stopped fluttering around his finger, he removed it and his wonderful, wonderful mouth, and crawled back over her until he was right back where they started. For a few seconds, they just sat there staring at each other, then Rey’s fingers began to gently stroke his hair, then she whispered his name, and he was kissing her again, and her head was spinning. 

This was everything. They’d only just started, but being with Ben felt like something straight out of paradise. He kissed her the way she always wanted to be kissed, like he actually enjoyed it rather than finding it a chore he had to do just because he was in a relationship with her. 

“So does this mean you’ll see a movie with me this Saturday night at eight ish?” Ben asked, interrupting the kiss.

Rey snorted, then brushed a piece of his hair back from his face again. “Maybe Sunday night. I should take a few more days to recuperate before I start dating again.”

“That’s fair. Sunday sounds good.”

“Great. Now can we stop making date night plans and get back to kissing because the kissing was really ni—“

As usual, he cut her off with a kiss, and she could taste herself on his lips as he kissed her deeply, enough for her to be unsure of where she ended and he began. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting out of their Netflix binge night, but it was everything she could’ve wanted and more. She felt like she could finally be happy with Ben, like she could finally be kissed, fucked, and held as if she was truly liked or maybe one day even loved. 

She felt like she was finally free. 


	11. Hello, Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is leaving First Order Enterprises for her dream job at Resistance Inc. On her last day, she gets a cake and a card with farewell messages from her department-there's an anonymous message among them, confessing to a secret crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


It’s a bittersweet thing, leaving her job. This is the first place she worked after getting her bachelor’s degree, the first place she made friends and found a group of people she could connect with, and the place where she’s made so many memories she’s going to be sad to go. 

She’d be even sadder if she didn’t take this job, though, if she stayed here and remained stagnant. First Order Enterprises was never her final destination, and she knew that, but it was the most important stop along the way so far to the job she actually wanted. 

Rey sniffles as she reads through the pages of the card they’d gotten her—with printer paper stapled in to provide a three-page spread for people to say goodbyes—looking at all their signatures as she sits in her cleaned out office. She’d needed a moment away from the party, from the drinking and the celebration to clear her head, to look around at everything that surrounded her and made her long for her friends. 

She was going to miss them all. God, she’s going to miss Finn, who’d applied for a job at the same time as her and wound up going through the training process with her. She’ll miss Phasma, the woman from H.R she suspects had probably killed people and buried their bodies but is somehow always there for her when she needs it. She’ll even miss Armitage, and the way he’s so  _ fucking  _ grumpy all the time, but it’s grown on her through the few years she’s been here. 

But most of all? She’s going to miss Ben, the guy who shares a desk space with her, who engages in petty paper fights through the cubicles, who buys her drinks on her birthday and smiles at her like she holds the world. There’s a lot of things that make her apprehensive about going, but this is the biggest one. She’s really going to miss their camaraderie, the way he made her smile, the way he could get her to laugh that ugly laugh she only reserved for her closest friends... 

In the somewhat short time that she’s been here, she’s started to develop feelings for Ben, she’s started to love how he laughs, how he smiles, the sound of his voice, and it’s made her wonder what he’d look like if she finally got the chance to tug on that stupidly tight shirt of his, and pulled him into the supply closet. 

He’s the one she’s thinking of as she reads through the signatures, getting a laugh out of Phasma’s dry humor and Armitage’s “okay, we’ll see you in another life,” but feeling sad as she reads through Finns paragraph reminiscing on all their time together. She knows she’ll still see her friends some evenings, but it won’t be as often as she likes anymore. She won’t have any control of it. 

Before she can think to sniffle again, she finds the last signature on the last page, and in somewhat sloppy hand-writing, like whoever left this message was doing so in a hurry, she feels her heart start fluttering nervously in her chest as she realizes what this is. It’s addressed to her, a comma after her name like whoever did this was writing a letter, but that’s about as professional as it gets. 

This is a love letter. Whoever signed her fucking card last has left her a love letter, and it’s apparent from the first sentence that she’s left an impression on someone at the office, but who?

_ “This is possibly the worst timing I could have,” _ the letter begins, and she laughs, agreeing with the writer that yes, their timing absolutely sucks. “ _ But I figured it was better late than never, so here goes. Three years ago, you walked in here with three buns and a smile on your face, and you walked out of work that day with a brand new set of pens and my heart. _

_ “I’ve felt something for you from the moment we met, but I wasn’t sure what it was. It took me ages to figure out that our antagonistic banter was really flirting, that I liked you as more than just my office friend, and I never told you because, well, I’m a coward. I’m a coward who’s telling you this at long last through a tiny letter in your farewell card.  _

_ “You deserve better than that, but at least now you know how I feel—kind of. Good luck at your new job, Rey, I’m sure they’re going to love you, and here’s hoping I find the courage to own up to this letter before you leave tonight. _

_ “Love, anonymous.” _

Rey’s shaking as she finishes reading the letter, as she reads it over and over again like she’s trying to assure herself that it’s real. It very much is, and that somehow feels worse. There’s someone here who clearly loves her, maybe in the way she’s always wanted to be loved, and she doesn’t know who they are, but she’ll probably never find out now unless they come forward and admit what they’ve done. 

Frustrated, she shuts the card, and puts it in the last box of her going away stuff. Once it’s safely tucked in the box, she stands, ready to make her way over to the party, when she suddenly sees Ben’s looming figure standing a few feet away. They both jump upon seeing each other, but then she laughs as she presses a hand to her chest—as if that can calm her racing heart—and sighs. “Oh, thank god, it’s just you.”

There’s a tiny hint of a smirk on his face, but it’s drowned out by what she thinks looks like resignation. Ben seems sad somehow, and he’s looked this way all night, like he’s going to be as upset to have her leave as she is. She hadn’t thought he’d cared that much, and that nearly makes her cry all over again as he steps closer. “I saw you leave, figured I needed to take my chance and say goodbye before you left for good.” He pauses, then gestures to the corner of lime green sticking out of her shoebox. “Did you read the farewells?”

“Yeah, just finished,” she says, thinking again about the love letter she’d been left and how she’ll never know that person’s identity. “Everyone was really sweet.” She glances up at him. “Did you get a chance to sign?”

His breath hitches for some reason, and he runs his hand through his hair as he approaches the desk, then leans against it. “I did.”

“Half the office didn’t sign it. Which one’s yours?” she asks, grabbing the card again, and handing it to him. “Mind showing it to me?”

Swallowing nervously, Ben took the card from her, and she watched in surprise as his hands began to shake. Why the hell were his hands shaking? “S-Sure,” he replies, then he opens it up, and flips pages. He does so one by one, dragging it out slowly like he’s afraid, and slowly, she starts to understand why. 

He gets to the last page, points his finger over the paragraphs of text on it, and she suddenly knows why he’s so nervous. “Oh…”

“I couldn’t think… It’s so stupid really, there had to be a million other… better ways to tell you how I feel, but… I’m a coward,” he admits, stepping a little closer, forcing her to crane her neck a little to look up at him. “Rey, I said everything in the letter, but I need to say something to your face, because… I’m--”

He freezes up, and she can see him shaking from nerves, so she does the first thing she can think of, and she wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. The man in front of her is still frozen for a few seconds, still paralyzed before it seems to register with him that he’s being hugged, and he finally returns the embrace. She breathes him in as she buries her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. “Ben, I don’t care how you said something, I’m just glad you said it.” 

“Really? You don’t mind? You don’t think I’m a coward?”

“I think it’s sweet,” she says, then she pulls away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “And it’s more than I’ve ever done. I could’ve said something, too.”

It takes a second before the words hit him, then Ben’s looking at her with his jaw slack and his eyes wide as he realizes what she’s just told him. He’s just admitted he’s in love with her, and she’s just told him she feels the same way. Right now, she knows his entire world has just shifted in the best way, the last puzzle piece has just fallen into place, and he’s trying to figure out how to proceed from here. “Rey…”

“I should’ve said something a long time ago, I’ve known how I’ve felt about you for… ages. I just didn’t know you felt the same way.”

An endearing, nervous laugh falls from his lips as his eyes fall back down to the floor. “I’d… I’d been thinking about saying something the minute you announced you were leaving. I almost asked you to dinner in my note before I decided to leave it anonymous.”

“Why don’t we go to dinner, then?” she asks, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. “Let’s go right now, I didn’t want to go back to that party anyway, it was just depressing.”

Snorting quietly, Ben nods, then he places his hands over hers. “I like that plan.”

“Good, ‘cause there’s this great Italian place right around the corner, and I’d kill a man for some fucking fettucini right now,” she replies, then she prepares to step back. “I just need to grab my jacket and my little box, then we’ll-”

He cuts her off, placing a finger against her lips before he takes in a deep, shuddering breath. “Wait… before we go…” His eyes drift down to where his hand is, and she feels her entire body flush pink as she realizes what he wants to do. “Can I kiss you?”

She’s nodding before she can process the words. “Yes, of course, you can,” she tells him, then the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile, and he takes her face in his hands, caressing her jaw with his palms before he leans in, and gently, sweetly, presses his lips to hers. 

The kiss is soft, closed-mouthed, sweet, and the most at peace she’s ever felt. Now that the stress of keeping her feelings secret is over, she feels free, and so she lets herself enjoy it, lets herself enjoy being kissed by him, and loses herself in the feeling of his warmth. 

When the kiss ends a few seconds later, Rey feels clean, and as she looks into his eyes, it’s like the last piece of her puzzle falls into place, too. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he whispers back, his voice deeper than ever before low, rumbling laughter escapes him. “I think you promised me dinner.”

“I did,” she breathes, then she blinks curiously up at him. “Do you want to… do you want to go now?”

“Absolutely,” he says, then he takes one of her hands in his, and squeezes it as she reaches for the coat draped over her seat as well as the box, and carries both of them in one hand. “You ready to go?”

“Born ready.” She then takes his arm, and stands a little closer by his side. “As long as you promise to kiss me again later?”

“I would kiss you again later no matter what,” he tells her, then they’re walking out of the office, the sounds of the party fading in the background as they trade stuffy air conditioning and sterile sky-scraper walls for the intimate, low lighting of a restaurant, and their first date begins.


	12. Stolen Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bandit Rey kidnaps Prince Ben the night before his arranged marriage, planning to keep him for ransom. Or rather, she proposes something... interesting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


There are headaches that make a person want to lie in bed all day and not move. There are hangovers that render them completely immobile, unable to even open their eyes as their head absolutely _ pounds _ from the mistake they made the night before. 

None of them compare to what Ben Solo has right now. None of them come even close. He feels like his head has been hit by a tiny cannonball, or--

_ Oh. _

As he blinks awake, the last memory he has of what happened before he fell unconscious comes into his mind. He’d been in his chambers, just finishing removing the crown on his head and the ceremonial cape he’d worn for the evening’s banquet. They’d just been set down on a chair, and he was making his way toward his bed, lamenting about his wedding the next day, when suddenly the world became white-hot, and he found himself plunged into darkness. 

Now his head is still pounding, and the room around him spins like he’s drunker than he’s ever been. It sends him into an internal panic; he doesn’t know where he is, how long it has been, or if he’s missed this stupid wedding. He’d love nothing more than to skip out on it, but he knows what’ll happen if he does. He’ll never be allowed to ascend to the throne if he doesn’t marry now. 

If he misses this wedding… his mother will think it was because he ran away. 

A groan escapes his lips as he comes into wakefulness, as the world comes into focus, and his eyes land on a figure whose silhouette flickers in firelight. Now that he’s properly awake, he can hear it roaring, can hear it crackling in the background even though he can see it’s dying. The figure in front of him crosses their arms, and he swears he can hear a sharp intake of breath as they realize he’s awake. “Are the restraints too tight?” A deep voice asks him, though he can’t discern whether it is masculine or feminine.

His head cocks to the side in confusion, and he attempts to run a hand through his hair to scratch his head, but he can’t move them. A sharp rush of air escapes his lungs as he looks up, and sees his hands are bound to the headboard of the bed he’s lying on. When he looks down, he’s disappointed but not surprised to see the same thing has happened to his feet. _ Great. _

Sighing deeply, Ben lets his head lean back against the headboard, then he shakes it. “No, they’re fine.”

The masked kidnapper doesn’t say anything, instead, they clench one of the fists at their side, then a brightly colored powder is tossed into the fire, and the light blossoms brilliantly, filling the room as the person in front of him begins stepping toward him, walking slowly like they’re studying him as they go, scrutinizing every move he makes. “We need to have a talk.”

“About what?” 

“Why you’re here.” The bandit walks toward him again, voice sounding slightly more feminine as she sits down on the bed, places her hands in her lap. “I didn’t want to do it this way, but I was left little choice; your fiance’s army wasn’t allowing visitors, even diplomats.”

“What?” he asks, bewildered, then he shakes his head again. “No, everyone was allowed in, my mother and I have been working tirelessly to ensu--”

“Not from my kingdom,” the bandit tells him, then she laughs. “I can’t even touch your gates without being threatened by a sword.”

“Where are you from?”

“Tattooine in the south. In the desertlands. You ever been?”

“Once, as a child, my uncle dragged us out there.” He tugs on the restraints. “Can you untie these?”

“Not until I’ve said my piece.”

He rolls his eyes, then glares at her. “What do you want?” he asks, then her shoulders relax, her entire body is no longer tense, and he senses it’s because he’s asked her the one question she’s been dying for him to ask this whole time. 

“I’m an observant woman, I’ve seen things before your palace was closed off. Every ball, every masquerade, I could see it.” She laughs as she peers at him through the old, leather bound goggles she’s wearing. “You loathe your fiance, you can’t stand to be around her, and you’re dying for a way out.”

Ben blinks his surprise at her. “I--what?”

“It’s a rule as a prince that you must marry by a certain birthday, is it not?” 

It is, but how would a bandit know these things? How would she be privy to the laws that bind royalty? That bind a prince to duty? “Yes.”

“That deadline is approaching fast, you have less than a week now. The wedding is tomorrow, so I knew I had to stop it, I knew this was now or never.”

“What are you saying?” Ben asks, then he blinks at her. “There’s no way out of this, even if I don’t want to marry her, I have no way out.”

“Because her kingdom’s been blocking off attempts by any others to stop this wedding,” The bandit informs him, then she lays a hand down on his calf. “Your highness, the only way to end this was to kidnap you. That’s the only hope I have at starting a discussion. I tied you down because I didn’t want to run the risk of you escaping before I could say my piece. That’s why I couldn’t just have this discussion in the palace with you earlier.”

“So what are you offering then, another marriage? Someone else? How can you know I won’t just hate this person more?”

“Honestly, you probably will, but at least Tattoine isn’t run by tyrants.”

His eyebrows furrow involuntarily as he looks at her, suddenly sensing there’s more to this bandit than meets the eye. “What makes you say that?”

“What makes me say what?”

“That I’ll hate this new person more than I hate you.” Ben’s eyes narrow, scrutinizing the bandit as she lowers her chin, looking away from him for the first time since he’d woken up. That had to mean something, didn’t it? “What does that mean? Have you met the princess of Tattooine? Do you know what she’s like.”

“I might know… something.” She glances back up at him, and he tries to see her eyes through the goggles, but they’re so thick it’s impossible. 

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“If you want something from me, then tell me who you are, take off that mask, and let me see your face.”

She freezes, absolutely locks up for the first time since they’ve been talking, and for a few seconds it feels like she has been rendered as tied up as she as. At the bare minimum, she is tongue-tied. It makes him start to think that maybe, in spite of being immobile, he’s finally gained the upper hand. 

The bandit, of course, never does what he predicts she will. He thought she was going to keep the mask on, keep hiding herself from him until his refusal led her to force his hand, but then she does the last thing he expects--

She removes the goggles first, revealing hazel eyes with colors that change and shift with every flicker of light emanating from the fire she’s lit. His breathing becomes uneven as she reaches up and begins to unwind the scarf from around her face and neck. 

“You need to marry a princess by your next birthday in five days, well, I am one, and _ I _ won’t fuck you over and try to rule over _ your _kingdom,” she says as she takes off the top part of the scarf, and moves it to reveal dark brown hair tied up into three buns that fall in a row on the back of her head. “I’m in the same situation you are, and every other bachelor in this continent makes me want to run myself into a sword. I don’t know if you’ll be better than them, maybe you won’t be, but…” She removes the bit of the scarf that’s around her mouth, and his entire world shifts. “You’re my last shot, Ben Solo.”

The first thought that runs through his head is that she’s stunning, a vision even in bandit’s garb, and he can’t help but be captivated by her eyes, her rosy cheeks, the pink tint of her lips, and the way she is looking at him with so much hope in her eyes that he is nodding before he can stop himself. He isn’t sure he wants to stop himself as his breath leaves him in short, sharp rushes of air. “What’s your name?”

“Rey,” she tells him. “I’m Rey Kenobi, sole heir to the throne of Tattooine, last chance you have at not hating your life. So what do you say? Now that you’ve seen my face, are you willing to return to your palace and make my offer to your family?” 

His family. Oh, hell, what will his mother say? Will she be disappointed or relieved? He’s gotten the impression she didn’t particularly like his fiance either, and his father--his father would probably tell him to take this chance immediately. 

But it’s rash, it’s rash and impulsive, and he barely knows her, but he finds something interesting in her that he’s never found in his fiance. He’s intrigued by everything she says, by everything she does, and he’s only just met her. This is a woman who knows what she wants, who will do everything she can in the name of her people and her own integrity, and he has a feeling already like he can trust her before they’ve even gotten to know one another. 

He says yes like it’s the easiest thing in the world, but precedes it with, “If you untie me, I’m all yours.” And yet it works, Rey is leaning over with a smile on her face to untie his bindings, freeing his hands first then his feet, waiting patiently for him to get comfortable again. 

“So it’s a yes, then? You’ll marry me instead of the scourge of Takodana?”

There’s only one more hesitation before he nods, then he reaches forward for her hand. “I’ll tell them tonight, assuming I still have time.”

“You’ve four hours until the sun rises.”

“Perfect, I’ll do it before dawn.”

“I’ve taken you to the village, you’ll want to leave immediately. There’s a horse waiting in the back for you, don’t set mine free while you’re making your escape,” she tells him, then she grasps his hand as he prepares to get off the bed. “Good luck.”

He lays a hand over hers, twining their fingers together because it feels effortless, like it was what he was meant to do all along. It almost even feels like destiny as he takes her hand to his lips, and presses a gentle kiss to it, swearing he feels her tremble beneath his touch as he then looks back into her eyes. “And to you, your highness.” 

It takes her a couple of seconds to get her bearings. “I’ll be seeing you,” she tells him, then together, the two of them stand up, hands joined as she walks him to the back door of the little hut she’s hidden him away in. He can’t help but notice that neither of them lets go until he’s actually out the door, that Rey holds onto his hand until he’s out of reach, and even as he walks away, she’s watching him go toward the horse she’s prepared for him. 

It’s almost like they’re prepared for the end, and yet this is not the end. It’s far from it. This is only the beginning, and as he rides off back toward his castle, back toward home, he knows he’ll see her again.

He knows he has a chance of possibly even falling in love with the woman he marries. 


	13. All’s Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is an underling of the goddess of love. Her job is to pair up people she deems romantically compatible. Her specialty is humorous meet-cutes. Kylo is a minion of the god of discord and his job is to break-up relationships. To meet his quota, he creates misunderstandings and miscommunication. Through some divine clerical error or cruel fate, they are both given the same couple to work on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


The couple in front of her is stubborn, Rey realizes, stubborn and bad at communicating. No matter how many times she tries to encourage them together, one of them accidentally says the wrong thing or trips and falls on top of the other person, and it just feels like every bad, chaotic thing that could possibly happen  _ is  _ happening. 

She checks the list of soulmates she has to introduce that day, and sure enough, Finn Smith and Poe Dameron are on it, but the way they’re bickering right now makes her question everything she’s known in thousands of years of pairing people together. It’s almost as if they dislike each other, or as if someone’s meddling with them on purpose, almost like— _ no.  _

There’s no way this is Kylo, the god of discord’s most notorious minion made an agreement with her long ago to never meddle in her affairs. They promised each other, swore on the gods they both served that they would never let each other get in the way of love or war. He knows better than to do this, their somewhat flirtatious friendship is on thin enough ice as is. 

She looks up, and watches Finn and Poe round a corner as they talk, and a familiar shadow is on their trail—a shadow with a green pea coat and a swagger to his walk that can only come from a certain type of arrogance—and her suspicions are confirmed. He’s broken his agreement never to interfere with her business, and for this, he must pay. Both she and her goddess will  _ make  _ him pay, and she can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes he’s been caught. 

Rey breaks into a run, the white lace of her dress flying in the wind as she pads along behind Finn, Poe, and the asshole. Kylo doesn’t seem to notice her on the approach, he remains oblivious, muttering little spells under his breath as he creates discord between the couple she’s desperately trying to set up. It takes her approximately three seconds of it before she flashes off a counter spell, then reaches out and grabs the back of that stupid coat, and pins him to the nearest wall. 

It’s an incredibly lucky thing that the mortals cannot see them unless they want them to. Especially on a day like today. 

Finn and Poe’s argument fades into quiet apologies in the background as she places her forearm against Kylo’s neck, and slaps him across the face with her other hand. “What the fuck?” she shouts at him. “What happened to not meddling in my affairs?”

“ _ Me?  _ What about you?” he cries in protest, and a tiny thread of confusion begins to blossom within her. “You’re meddling in  _ mine! _ ”

“That’s rubbish we both know you’re the one who’s a minion of discord, if anyone’s creating chaos, Kylo, it is you, not me.” She presses her arm further into his neck, causing him to choke a little on his next breath. “I just want you to tell me  _ why _ .”

She lets up a little as he scoffs, and looks down at her with bewilderment in his eyes. “Sweetheart, they’re on my list, I am not doing anything wrong, I’m just doing my job.  _ You’re  _ the one who’s lost her mind and decided that  _ I  _ broke our pact even though  _ you  _ did this.”

Confusion floods her as she looks into his eyes, and realizes he’s telling the truth without ever having to show her his list. They’ve never been good at lying to each other, even if they’ve tried their best to do so in the past. It’s one of their few unfortunate flaws. Well, one of his many, but she likes to think she’s not so flawed since she’s bringing people together rather than tearing them apart. 

“They’re on my list, too,” she tells him, and she knows he believes her to by the way his face softens, and he shifts his mouth in that specific way that only he can. 

They’re both frozen for a minute, unsure what to do now that they’re in unchartered territory. Rey looks at the couple they’re feuding over, watches as they talk in soft, hushed tones, and Finn takes Poe’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together as they turn to face one another. “So what do we do then?” Kylo asks her quietly as they both watch. “Because they’re clearly capable of both love and hatred. Perhaps that’s why we both matched with them, because they could swing either way.”

“Perhaps,” Rey says, then she moves away from Kylo, and together they watch Poe smile at Finn, and it’s like the sun has just shone on the other man’s face from the way he lights up. “I’m sorry I pinned you to the wall and struck you, that was rude.”

“You thought I’d broken the pact.” He shrugs as he steps forward, and stands by her side. “I would’ve done the same.”

She looks down at the ground, feeling embarrassed by her reaction. “We should just let this play out without interference, that’s the only way to know. Neither of us will get very far otherwise.” A sigh escapes her, deep and heavy, from the very depths of her soul. “Maybe we can focus on not being such asses toward each other.”

“I like that idea,” he says, then she feels his hand reaching for hers, and she grasps hold of it, their fingers twining as the couple before them leans in close, their arms now around each other’s waists as they look at one another through hooded eyes. “I’m thinking it’s going your way.”

“It might be.” She smiles as she watches, as Poe closes the gap between them, and kisses Finn sweetly, cautiously, before he goes back in for another deeper, more intense kiss that has them both smiling against one another. “It definitely is.”

“I suppose we can consider our work done here, then.” Kylo replies, then he runs his thumb over the back of her hand. “You think they’ll stay like this? Happy together?”

“I think they’ll try, and that’s enough.” She leans in a little closer to him. “We can’t interfere anyway, all we can do is watch.”

Kylo turns to face her, giving a warm smile as he then reaches forward to take her other hand. “How terrible, spending my days watching people fall apart or fall in love with you. What a curse.”

The sarcasm dripping from his voice gives her pause, and she blinks up at him, the couple in the background forgotten as she looks into the golden flecks in his irises. She could get lost in those flecks, and she nearly does until she remembers herself, and shudders slightly. “Careful, Kylo, you’ll make it sound like you’re in love with me, and I don’t think your god will take too kindly to that.”

He seems to think this over for a few seconds, then he steps a little closer. “My job is to cause discord between other couples, no one ever declared I could not fall in love myself. No such rule exists.” Kylo pulls her a little closer, then one of his hands wraps around her waist, and he hums contentedly as she rests her hand at his elbow, her eyes becoming hooded like Finn and Poe’s had as she looks at his lips—had they always been so full or was there something in the air tonight?

“The minion of discord falling in love? I hadn’t seen you on my list.”

“Those lists are for mortals, we both know it,” he says, then he shakes his head. “Please tell me you feel something, too. I’ve thought there was a chance I was starting to go insane through the centuries—“

“I do. I’ve felt something, too,” she admits. “But that doesn’t mean I should.”

“Check your list. I’m sure somewhere on there you’ll find your own name, at least, I hope you will.” He laughs to himself. “I hope this isn’t just a cruel trick of the gods.”

Rey turns over her wrist on his arm, her irises glowing gold as calligraphic script of a similar shade appears on the inside of her arm, and she checks the names. Sure enough, just beneath Finn and Poe, she spots herself and Kylo’s names in that beautiful, damning script, and she jolts suddenly as she looks up into his eyes. “You’re right.”

“I am?”

“It’s no trick, my goddess seems to have ordered me to try and bring us together.”

“And do you plan on following orders, or did you want to run?” 

Her eyes fall back to his lips again, everything outlined in gold as she stares at him, eyes flickering up to his. They’re both glowing slightly as she lets go of his arm, and lays her palm gently on his cheek. He shivers slightly from the contact, but doesn’t protest it as she begins to lean in, the world seeming brighter and brighter as she gets closer and closer until her lips are a hair’s breadth away from his. 

There they linger for a few seconds, pausing as if to be sure beyond any shadow of a doubt that this is right before they both move in sync, and close the distance between them, kissing properly in front of the oblivious couple they’ve just argued over. They might still be kissing, they might not, but Rey doesn’t care about their kiss, she cares about his. 

Kylo’s lips are the softest things she’s ever felt, his touch is the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced, and her heart has never pounded faster as she brings her hand back to thread her fingers through his hair. It’s just as soft as she’d imagined it would be, and a perfect thing to grasp to hold her to reality as his kiss makes her head spin. There’s a magic between them that grows stronger and brighter with every brush of her lips against his, and she knows now that they were always headed here. 

Even in spite of all the odds, the daughter of love and the son of discord have fallen for each other. Two opposites that should never have attracted have come together, and it feels so right that she can’t imagine a life where she didn’t have him in it constantly any longer. She hopes to never have a life without him in it ever again. 

They pull apart not because they need air, but because she wants to see him, she wants to see the glow in his eyes, the loving look in them she knows will be there, and she wants to know how it will feel to have him say everything that kiss means. “So you’ll follow orders then? You’ll try to love me?”

“Kylo, you’re my destiny and I’m yours,” she tells him, then she looks back down the street, where the couple that had inadvertently brought them together has now made their decision to be together. She watches with a smile as they walk away from the two demigods holding hands, swaying their palms between them as they go. “I won’t have to try to love you. I will.”

“And them?”

“We’ll keep watching over them in our spare time, it’ll give us an excuse to see each other.”

“I like that idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, then he’s kissing her again, and the world is spinning slowly, gently into a sweet oblivion, and they’re finally brought toward their destiny. 


	14. Won’t You Share this Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben likes to dance around the ship when most of the First Order is asleep. Rey force bonds as he really gets into it. Think Hugh Grants character from Love actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


There are a few things he’s kept from his old life; from his time as Ben Solo. His mother’s poise and her ability to command, his father’s smirk—though usually hidden beneath a mask—and that typical, Solo sarcasm that managed to leak into his voice no matter what he did. All were things he’d tried his best to hide from supreme leader Snoke for the six years they’d worked together, and all were things he still hid from the rest of the First Order. 

But none of them were as secret as this; as when he spent nights letting music play from a holo-pad in his room, dancing around like he’d done in his youth, how his mother had taught him to. Sometimes, he thinks it’s the only thing that keeps him sane. He moves with an invisible partner, taking the room in graceful, long strides with his eyes closed as he listens to the rhythm of the music, using the force to avoid running into anything as he goes. 

It’s never enough, it’s never _ going _ to be enough, but he needs something to keep him sane. The duties and pressures of being the supreme leader are much more intensive than he’d ever thought they’d be, and thus in the dark of the night he is dancing in his room as the Finalizer coasts through hyperspace. 

He’s not sure who he’s imagining in front of him as he goes, but he does imagine someone. There’s a silhouette of a person, and as he focuses a little harder, he realizes it’s a woman. At first, he thinks maybe it’s his mother, but it soon becomes apparent to him that this woman is taller than Leia Organa, taller and slim like—

The stranger in his imagination turns her head as they spin about the room, and he catches sight of three buns. Before he knows it, his mind’s eye has conjured a full image of Rey, and he can see her in one of the dresses women wore at balls he attended in his youth. She’s wearing green, and she sparkles like an emerald, her white-gloved hands holding onto him firmly as her skirts swirl out around her with every spin they do about the room. 

Right now, his mental image looks the way his parents had always hoped he would. They’d wanted him to dance like this, to find someone to dance with and never let go of. It’s in this moment he finds himself missing them like he sometimes does, and he quietly mourns the loss of what he once had. He’s furious with Snoke all over again for what he took from him, for what he made him do. 

He’d lost everything. 

But he can’t focus on that right now, this is his time to unwind, so he forces those thoughts from his mind. He continues dancing like nothing’s wrong, like he’s never gone to the first order, he’s never been ruled over by Snoke, and he’s never been betrayed by Luke. Ben and Rey met at a ball, and that is why they’re dancing. The heir to the throne of Alderaan has found a match, and all is right in the galaxy. 

This doesn’t last for long. A few seconds later, he can sense the forcebond tingling at the back of his mind, and before he can snap out of his trance, before he can stop dancing, the _ real _Rey appears before him. The vision he’s seeing clears, and there’s no longer a green ball gown and white gloves, but there’s the girl he knows wearing white, flowy fabric over a shirt and pants of a similar color. The three buns are the only thing that remain, but they always do. 

He stops dancing, frozen in the position of holding an invisible partner as she gapes at him from where she sits on his bed. Confusion is waiting over the connection, and he can’t blame her for it; he must look absolutely mad. “Rey…”

“This is new,” she says, not moving, not gesturing with her hands like she expects but instead opting to peer at him curiously. 

Dropping his hands, Ben straightens his posture, and turns away, embarrassed at having been caught. He can’t let her see how red his cheeks are, and he knows they’re red because he can feel them warming. He’s blushing like a young boy and he wouldn’t be this embarrassed if it was anyone but her, but because he’d just been picturing her twirling around the room with him, he’s very much embarrassed. 

“I didn’t know you danced,” she says, and he can hear the shock in her voice, can sense it through the bond. “Or that you were good at it.”

He turns around, shocked. “Good?”

This time, she’s the one whose cheeks have flushed, but she’s not a coward like him, she doesn’t turn away. “I haven’t seen many people dance, but from what I know… you dance well.”

“Well enough for you to speak to me, apparently,” he mutters, then he walks over to the bed, taking his gloves off as he goes, and setting them down on his desk before he stands in front of her. “Silence for weeks and now?”

“You caught me by surprise, that’s all,” she says sternly, standing up so that they’re nearly chest to chest. “I wouldn’t have said anything if you were working on your next plot for galactic domination.”

“Rey…”

“And I need you.”

His eyebrows shoot toward his hair line. “Need me?”

“Your—your mother’s throwing a gala to raise support for our cause—“

“No.”

“Ben—“

“No.”

“I need to learn how to dance, but she’s busy and there’s not a lot of people around who can teach me.” She sighs as she looks down at the ground, and kicks nervously at it with her foot, their boots nearly colliding as she settles down. “Will you help me? I know we barely speak, I know we have our differences, but please…” 

He meets her eyes, and he can tell she’s sincere. There isn’t a joke being made, he’s not being laughed at behind his back, and she’s stone-cold serious as she asks him to help her with this. Logic says he shouldn’t; he should turn away from the Jedi and go back to his duties, his dance break has lasted long enough, but those eyes…

Ben thinks about how it felt just to dance with the image of her, and there’s a part of him that revels in the idea of actually dancing with her, but the majority of him is so nervous he doesn’t know what the hell he's going to do. Looking down at her hands, he finds himself being almost compelled to take them, and he has to hold himself back to keep from doing so too early. 

“Ben?” 

“Yes?”

“Will you teach me?”

That question sends him back to the day they’d met; he’d asked her to let him be her teacher that day, their blades locked in the snow. It had been so different, and yet it’s so similar to what he’s being asked now that he can’t help but think of it. He wonders if she’s thinking of it, too, if she’s haunted the same way he is. 

“I will,” he says after a while. “I’ll teach you.”

“Good, then we better move fast we never know how long the connection will hold.”

“Agreed,” he replies, then he holds out a hand, and steps back. “Follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

The music is still playing in the background, the song he’s been listening to fading out slowly into the next one. While the two songs transition, he takes her out into the middle of the floor, and positions one hand at his shoulder, and the other in his, then he rests a hand at her waist, and waits patiently for the next song to start. 

What plays next is a soft, slow melody, far too intimate for the dance he’d had planned, but he rolls with it. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he has to break away from her now and change the song. It would be awkward, and they don’t have that kind of time to waste. 

Instead of being a coward, for once he begins to move, instructing her quietly as he goes. Together, they find a rhythm that works, and in no time, Rey is twirling about the room with him, and it’s even better than his fantasy. She moves with an unexpected grace, even as he twirls her around in his arms. She’s a natural in every sense of the word, gifted in this art she’s only just learned. 

It occurs to him that perhaps she’s picking up his skills like she had with a lightsaber, but he’s still entranced by Rey’s ability to dance nonetheless. He’s so enchanted that for a few seconds, he closes his eyes again, imagining that fantasy he’d had of them dancing at one of his mother’s galas, but it no longer compares to the real thing. This is so much better than any fantasy he could be having. 

His eyes open, and he looks into hers, finding comfort in how close she is as they move about the dance floor—his bedroom floor—like it’s the easiest thing in the world. She’s smiling up at him now, and for the first time in a long time, he feels tendrils of the emotion that is joy seep into his veins. It compels him to smile with her, the corners of his mouth tilting up as he smiles at her like she’s the sun itself. Maybe she is. The room certainly feels brighter with her around. 

At some point, he hears the song start to come to an end, and he really wishes it wouldn’t. It’s the last song on his list, and he’ll have to break away from her to restart it, and he really doesn’t want to. He brings their dance into a slow, steady sway, and pulls her in closer, letting his forehead rest against hers as they dance quietly. “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

“It doesn’t, you could come home, Ben, come back to us,” she whispers, and there’s a moment of hesitation, apprehension in the bond, then she leans forward, and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Come back to me.”

“We were never together.”

“But we could be,” she says, then she squeezes his hand as they continue swaying. “We could dance together without fear of being interrupted. You could teach me everything you know.”

“I can’t.”

“Ben—“

“Rey, I can’t.”

“Can’t?” she asks as the music stops completely, and silence fills the room. “Or won’t?” Then before he can answer, she surprises him, leaning forward again to kiss him briefly. It’s short, only two seconds, barely a brush of her lips against his, but it gets her message across. This is what he could have if he goes to her, if he finds her out there in the galaxy and leaves the first order. Their dream could be a reality. 

He has to be sure, and so he leans forward, crossing the space between them to kiss her again, his lips caressing hers in a longer, lingering touch that actually allows her to kiss him back. They’re still swaying all the while, and Ben can hear music playing in his head, the song they were listening to providing a quiet melody as he kisses her, and he thinks on what the hell he’s going to do. 

His mind comes up blank, and he realizes he has absolutely no clue what he’s doing. He’s never going to have a clue what he’s doing. All he can do is think about how good this feels, and how he’ll fight to ensure he can feel this again. 

Before he can make up his mind, though, the force is cruel. She’s wrenched away from him mid-kiss, and he’s now alone in his chambers holding nothing. His arms fall limp at his sides, and he staggers back to fall down on his bed as he processes what just happened. He’d kissed Rey, danced with her, and held her close like she was his lover rather than his nemesis. He’d nearly considered abandoning everything he knew to be with her—

Would that be so bad? Wouldn’t he enjoy a life with her? Wouldn’t he like being by her side much more than he enjoys helming the first order? 

He isn’t sure, he still has no idea what he wants, and now she’s gone, now she’s back on her side of the galaxy, and he’s going to dance alone until he musters up the courage to follow her across the stars. 

After all, she’d done the same for him once, he just hopes that when he does go, he won’t mess it up. 


	15. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rivals Ben and Rey were cursed and now they keep waking up in the same bed regardless of where they ended the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M  


The curse was a nuisance from day one. From the first moment she woke up beside Ben Solo, wrapped up in his arms like they were sharing the world’s most intimate embrace, she’d loathed it entirely. The sole saving grace to it all was that they lived in the apartments next to one another, and therefore they only had to walk back over a few feet to be in their own homes again. 

Actually, there was another saving grace, because at least they alternated whose apartment it was every other night. She thankfully didn’t have to always be kicked out of Ben’s apartment, sometimes, she kicked  _ him  _ out of  _ her  _ apartment, and at this point, they’d gotten quite good at leaving without being told to. 

They were adapting, as much as life made it difficult to do so, as much as neither of them ever wanted to wake up tangled in the other’s arms again—though she could admit, he was a wonderful space heater when December came and brought winter with it—they were getting good at this. 

Or rather, they were until Ben informed her that he had a business conference in Omaha, halfway across the country. Both of them had gone white as sheets when he’d told her, just mentioning it casually when they’d both gone out to get the mail, and then soon realizing what that would mean. Either Ben was going to be transported home early or Rey was about to be thrown thousands of miles in her sleep. 

Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good, and that was exactly what her first thought was when she woke up the morning after her bastard neighbor left for Nebraska in a bed she knew from the get go wasn’t hers. Though her eyes hadn’t even opened yet, Rey could tell that this was a hotel bed. It was a fucking hotel bed, she was in a motherfucking hotel bed in the middle of the country, with no idea how she was going to get home before her next shift at Maz’s Cafe, twelve hundred miles away. 

A groan escaped her as she buried her face in what she assumed was the broad expanse of Ben’s chest, and sighed. This was quite possibly the worst day of her life, and it was probably not even six am. 

“I see  _ you  _ came to  _ me,” _ Ben observed, and she swore to all the gods she didn’t believe in she was going to kick his ass in the next five seconds. 

“I am going to kill you.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault.”

“But you’re making jokes. You’re not the one who’s going to have to get on a plane, and come up with a lie to her boss about why she was in fucking Omaha the morning she had a shift!”

Hearing this, he seemed to relent a little bit. “Sorry,” he said, and she felt the arm he had wrapped around her waist fall to her side. 

She wasn’t ready for that. “Put that back, I’m cold.”

“I thought you hated it when I touched you.”

“Not when I’m cold. If the universe is going to be cruel enough to force me thousands of miles away, I’m going to make the most of it,” she told him sternly. 

Snorting quietly, Ben wrapped his arms around her again and shook his head. “You’re making it harder to hate you.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. “How?”

“You’re, um… weirdly adorable when you ask me to hold you,” he said, then he ran his hand through his hair nervously like he was certain he’d made a mistake. “If you’re getting something out of this…”

“Oh, you suck.”

“Love you, too.”

“We’re not even friends, you can’t find me adorable.”

“Well I do.”

“Stop then,” she muttered, then she smacked the other side of his chest with her palm. “Just because we have to tolerate each other doesn’t mean we have to actually like each other.”

“And what if I do like you?” he asked. “Would that be so bad?”

Her eyebrows furrowed at him as she looked up, and tried to make out his expression in the dark. “Not if you promise to pay for my flight home.”

“Fair enough,” he said, then he looked over at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s a quarter past four. The earliest flights won’t leave for a few hours.”

“Fine by me.”

She laughed, finding herself truly astonished by the whole exchange. This whole time they’d spent their mornings bickering, but she could tell in his voice that he wasn’t only tired physically, but emotionally as well. It must’ve been taxing carrying on with her like he had. After all she knew she was really fucking tired of the way they’d been treating one another, they deserved a break, even if they were destined to go right back to bickering the next morning. 

Sighing, Rey propped her head up on the back of her hand, and looked into his eyes, which were now visible as she adjusted to the low lighting. “So how’s Omaha?”

“Not bad. I’m not exactly here for fun, though.”

“Business then? Not pleasure?”

Ben, ever the asshole, seized the opportunity she brought about with that question immediately. “That could always change.” 

She reached up and smacked his cheek. “Can you not be a dick for five minutes?” she hissed, then she sighed. “Just because nine mornings out of ten I wake up with your dick hard on my ass doesn’t mean—“

“And what about the mornings where I wake up with a we—“

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Rey…”

“I said shut up,” she ordered him, her voice like a warning. 

He bent his neck slightly, raising his head to look at her as she climbed a little further up his chest. “What? What are you gonna do?”

Rey said nothing, instead, she just looked down, eyes flickering down to his lips for half a second before she made a choice out of impulse and boredom. They’d been through a lot thanks to this weird curse they’d seemingly had placed upon them, they’d been put through all kinds of irritating hell; including each other’s annoying habits, the rare nights in which one of them slept naked and freaked the shit out of the other, or the occasional waking up groping one another, or even the time she woke up to him snoring very loudly. 

She’d earned this. She’d been waking up next to the man for months, she’d more than earned this. 

Without another moment’s hesitation, she leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his. At first he seemed shocked, but then he gave into it, seeming to shrug slightly as he wraps his arms around her, his hands threading into her hair as she rolled on top of him, pressing him into the mattress as the kiss grew deeper. 

In spite of the animosity between them, she was actually rather enjoying this. It felt nice to lie on top of him, to let her legs fall to either side of his hips as her tongue sought access between his lips, meeting his in the middle as she lost herself to the kiss. If she was going to be stuck here for the next few hours, she wasn’t going to sit around doing nothing. 

Ben moaned softly against her mouth, and she felt his hips shift beneath her, shifting up to meet hers. She could feel his erection between her legs, pressing against the apex of her thighs. Another mental shrug ensued—an internal  _ fuck it _ —then she began to grind against him, breaking the kiss for a few seconds as she sighed from pleasure, then she was back on him, kissing him like the world was ending as their hips moved in sync. 

All those unintentional mornings together must’ve done  _ something  _ good. They moved together like they were meant to, like this was an act well rehearsed, and it felt obscenely good to be with him. It felt way better than it had any right to. 

“I thought you hated me,” she whispered, breaking away from the kiss again to pepper more of them along the column of his throat. 

“We’re stuck like this, might as well take advantage of it,” he replied, then he was kissing her again, and she could barely tell where one of them ended and the other began as they melted into the mattress. 

This shouldn’t have felt good. It shouldn’t have made her barely able to focus from how it felt to grind against him, it shouldn’t have made her head lose all sense of thought, but it did. It felt  _ perfect.  _ It felt like in spite of being thousands of miles from home, that she was right where she was supposed to be; that being anywhere but in this bed was wrong, and she shouldn’t have felt that way about her nemesis but—

Maybe she didn’t hate him as much as she thought she did. Maybe she never truly hated him, just the unfortunate circumstances in which they were thrust together. 

“Ben, I’m gonna come,” she whispered to him a few seconds later, and all he did in response was move faster, but he kissed her a little more gently as he brought her to the edge, breaking away from the kiss to whisper sweet, filthy things into her ear until she gasped his name again. 

“Let go,” he breathed, and she came on his command, moaning quietly as she felt waves of sheer bliss wash over her. 

It could’ve been an eternity or it could’ve been a few seconds, but eventually Rey came down from her high, panting hard as she rested her forehead against his. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was their breathing, then she finally found her head beginning to clear. “Did you come…?”

“Not yet,” he replied, then he shook his head. “It’s okay, I don’t need to. You probably needed this more than I do.”

“Nonsense, how much time do we have left?”

Ben looked at the clock again, then back at her. “I… I think we’ve got another half hour before I need to drop you off at the airport.”

“Then you have enough time to come.”

In the dark, she could only see a hint of his smile, but it was just enough for her to catch his nonverbal  _ yes _ as she kissed him again, and let him roll them over on the mattress, the heat between them growing in intensity as the time dragged on...

As she finally learned to start looking forward to her mornings. 


	16. On One Knee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben proposes to Rey. Except that they’re not even romantically involved and it’s a diversion for a heist.
> 
> Or is it possibly something more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


The hall is the most glamorous thing he’s ever walked into. Instantly he’s taken in by high ceilings and glittering chandeliers, and waiters swarm around them with offerings of sparkling wine that will only make the world seem more glamorous. It’s all far more money than he will ever be worth in his life, and as if he weren’t nervous enough, he’s got  _ Rey  _ on his arm, her gloved hand wrapped around his bicep and her skirts swishing against his calves at any given moment. 

For the evening’s heist, he’s been paired up with Rey. They’ve been tasked with surveying the room and providing a distraction when necessary. They’ve become the Bonnie and Clyde of the night, they’re going to do as much damage as they can without being noticed while the rest of the Resistance actually commits the robbery. 

Tonight’s crime? They’re stealing a ring; a priceless one worn by some long dead French king, and all he can think about is the one in his pocket that he got from his mother—the one they’d been instructed to fake a proposal with. It makes him nervous, and not because he’s committing an act of theft, but because he’s going to even pretend to propose to Rey. 

This wouldn’t be a big deal with anyone else. If he’d been assigned to go in here and propose to Rose, Finn, or Poe, he would be fine and dandy. He would be doing perfectly swell, but he actually has feelings for Rey. He’s been in love with her ever since he finally manned up and joined his mother’s cause. From the moment she said hello, he has been a goner, and everyone has known he’s been in love with her except for, well, Rey. 

“This is fucking crazy,” Rey whispers to him as they stroll further into the room. “There are people everywhere. We’re never going to pull this off.”

Ben tries to gather his wits for a few seconds as he nods. “Ah, yes, uh, we can definitely pull it off,” he replies, then he lays a palm over the hand that’s currently taking his arm, and smiles down at her endearingly. “That’s what we’re here for. We are the distraction.”

“Our proposal, right,” she says, shaking her head as she looks around at the crowd. “We need to talk about that. We’ll be doing it soon. Maz told us the minute the lights flicker, you need to grab everyone’s attention and get down on one knee.”

“Yeah, but a proposal involves more than just asking you to marry me. Most people hug, some start kissing—are you comfortable with that? Kissing me?” He wants to kiss her, he does, very badly actually, but if she doesn’t want to kiss him, he wants to know now so he doesn’t embarrass himself. 

He’d rather have the heartbreak sooner than later. 

“Sure, why not? We have to make it convincing, right?”

“Of course,” he replies, straightening his posture as they make a stop by a waiter, both stealing champagne off of his tray as they continue wandering through the hall. 

An orchestra is playing faintly in the background, its music harmonizing with the giggle Rey gives him in response, and he thinks he might just fall a little harder. “Any minute now,” she tells him, then she squeezes his bicep. “Have you given any thought to what you’re going to say?”

“In my proposal?”

“Yeah, you have to make it last a minute. Just asking me to marry you won’t be enough, I can promise you this. We need to give the Resistance ample time to steal this ring.”

“Right.”

“So what are you going to say to me? What kind of sappy, fluffy shit am I going to get from you, Solo?” she asks, and for a second, he freezes, unsure of how he’s going to answer, but then she takes a sip of her wine, and as he watches her sultry eyes lock onto his, he regains control of himself. 

Ben laughs as he sips his own wine, then he sighs. “Ah, my dear, I can’t be spoiling what I’m going to tell you at our proposal, it has to be a surprise,” he tells her, his tone a touch overdramatic, but it makes her laugh. “You’ll find out in a few minutes.”

Eyes rolling, Rey sips at her wine again, then sets the empty glass down on another waiter’s tray, and lets him guide her into the center of the hall. They’re prepared to steal the eyes of everyone in the room. “I just… I’m curious. I’ve always been single and I still am single, and part of me is worried that I’ll never know what it feels like.” She looks down at the floor, then lets go of his arm, sighing as she seems to realize that she’s always been alone. “I just want to hear something sweet like that, just once, and this may be my only chance.”

His heart breaks a little for her inside, and he knows that his proposal now has to be the most epic thing anyone has ever seen. He can’t risk Rey never hearing someone ask her to marry them, and he doesn’t trust himself to have the courage to ever actually tell her how he feels. Ben knows what he has to do, but he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to do it. 

Before he can think on it too hard, the lights flicker briefly, and it’s so faint that no one else in the room seems to notice, but he and Rey do. They definitely pick up on it, and before he can think to stop himself, he’s pulling the ring out of his pocket, and asking the people around them to move back so he can get down on one knee. 

The woman in front of him puts on a good show. She actually looks shocked as the crowd begins to build around them, and Ben presents a burgundy ring box, opening it as he kneels down. The tile of the floor digs into his knee, but it’s worth it, he thinks, it’s worth it to see Rey cover her mouth with her hands she’s so excited, even if she’s just playing a part. 

“Rey,” he says, captivated by the look in her eyes as she watched his mother’s blue diamond glitter in the chandelier’s light. “I’ve loved you from the moment we met.”

“Ben…”

“Please let me finish before you say anything, cause I don’t know if I’ll survive if I don’t get this all off my chest right now.” He takes in a deep breath, barely able to keep from trembling as he realizes that precisely none of what he’s saying is a lie. Every single word coming out of his mouth is his solemn truth, and he knows she is at least somewhat aware that this is no longer just a ruse. “I’ve loved you from the moment you introduced yourself, and for the longest time, I was too much of a coward to tell you, but then I learned… I learned that you hadn’t ever had anyone tell you how they feel; you've never heard anyone tell you they love you, and I knew that had to change.

“Rey, I love you, and I’m never gonna stop loving you, so please have mercy on me and tell me you’re okay with me spending the rest of my life making sure you know you’re loved. Tell me you’ll love me, too. Tell me I’m it for you, because you’re it for me. 

“So with all that said, there’s a question I’ve been dying to ask you.” He holds the ring out a little further forward. “Will you marry me?”

Ben watches as she looks at the ring for a moment, the crowd around them whispering excitedly as they hope and pray that she’ll say the one word they’re all dying to hear. There’s more than just that, though, he can see her almost genuinely pondering her question as she reaches out for the box, then her eyes glance up to meet his, and she nods. “Yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes, you moron, I’ll marry you,” she tells him, then the crowd breaks out into a cheer, and applause deafens them as he slides the ring onto her finger, pockets the box, then he takes her cheeks in his hands, and pulls his new “fiancé,” into a kiss. 

This is what he’s been missing, isn’t it? In all his cowardice, he’s deprived himself of this feeling. The kiss makes him feel drunk, he is blissed out on Rey’s lips, on the way they move so smoothly with his, and he is so far gone he doesn’t even care that her lipstick is getting all over his face. He doesn’t give a half-shit about the teasing he will soon endure from his mother about the red staining his mouth, he just cares about this. 

He puts all his efforts into kissing her, into letting her know not just through words but through his touch that she’s loved, and by the time they pull away, he thinks she might just understand it. Those suspicions are confirmed when he sees her blink like she can’t believe what just happened, and she looks up into his eyes, gives him a nod, and laughs. “I love you, too.”

A genuine grin breaks out on his face, and he can’t help but kiss her again, a bit more passionately this time in spite of how tired he’s sure the crowd is of them. There’s only so much of watching strangers make out that people can take, so he keeps it short, breaking away from her just as the lights flicker again—his mother’s signal to get out of there as quickly as they can. 

His eyes meet Rey’s, and he gives her a subtle nod. “Ready to run?”

“Always,” she promises him, then she takes his hand, and together the two of them high tail it out of there, running out of the hall as quickly as they can before they can hear alarms going off, and making their way toward freedom. 

Even after they’re free, she does one thing that’s very tiny, but he can’t help noticing it; he can’t help noticing she kept the ring he’d given her on, and as she winks at him on their way to rendezvous with the Resistance, he knows it was on purpose. He knows that when she said yes, she meant yes. It’s an absolutely mad thing, a terrible idea, but she’s said yes, and he figures he’s already wanted for dozens of crimes anyway. Why not get engaged right after admitting his feelings?

After all, they can just have a long engagement in case it doesn’t work out, but something tells him as they lace their fingers together and run the remaining way toward his mother’s van, that they’re not going to have to wait nearly as long as he thinks. 


	17. The After Midnight Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul always takes care of Rey when she's sick or hurt, or even just tired. So when he comes down with a fever, she tries to return the favor. Rey is the worst at taking care of sick people. Ever. Or maybe she isn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> So for this one I replaced Ben with Paul Sevier from Midnight Special, because of you’ve ever seen me on twitter or discord, you know that I’m obsessed with him. He is my bean son, and he deserves some fluff.

Paul’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. The fever he’d fallen ill with that night at the office bar night has spiked, and his poor roommate, Rey, has volunteered to take his temperature because in spite of this, he’s still trying to go into work. She, however, is not a cretin like him, and thus they’re both waiting for the thermometer sticking out of his mouth to confirm that the NSA’s least favorite agent can’t go to work today even though it’s half past midnight. 

It beeps a few seconds later, and Rey’s eyebrows quirk up almost playfully. 

“What’s the verdict, doc?” he asks sleepily as she takes the thermometer out of his mouth, and reads the temperature on it. 

A tiny giggle escapes her, and Paul grabs his glasses off the table just in front of his couch, putting them on as quickly as he can while she holds it out for him to read.  _ 102.2.  _ His temperature is four degrees above what can be considered safe, and he slumps against the couch pitifully. He’s going to have to call out sick today, there’s no way Dr. Rey is letting him leave the house, and she’d offered to do this because today was her day off. 

He’s stuck letting his roommate babysit him all day and he’s a workaholic. Paul openly fucking  _ groans _ as he lets his body go limp, and Rey laughs at him. “I’ll get you some blankets. You’re sweating out this fever.”

Another groan escapes him, and he grabs her wrist as she tries to get up and get the things she needs. “Are you even sure that’s what you’re supposed to do?” 

“Yes, that’s what you’re supposed to do,” she tells him. “Christ, you’re hotter than hell…” She freezes. “In the physical sense. Anyway, stop complaining and let me take care of you, please?”

Sighing, he gives her a slow nod, letting go of her wrist so that his feverish hand falls limply to the floor beside him. It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it? He can already tell. Any day where he isn’t able to go to work is an agonizingly long day. But this one…? 

Since he moved into this apartment after the incident with the Meyer family about a year ago, he hasn’t been alone in the apartment with Rey for more than a few hours at a time. Now they’re about to be together for an entire day, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Over the past year that they’ve been living together, he’s steadily been developing feelings for her. He’s just been too much of a coward to say anything even though he knows that Rey doesn’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner and he could definitely say something, but—

He’s a coward, and she deserves better than a coward. 

As he sinks further into the couch cushion, his head begins swimming, and he realizes that Rey is right. He really is feverish. He’s sweaty and hot, and she hasn’t even brought out the blankets yet. Yeah, everyone at work would probably hate his guts if he came in that day. His ass would be kicked, and he would entirely deserve it. 

“Alright, your highness,” his roommate announces, coming back into the room with a pile of three flannel blankets—far too many for what the situation demands—in her arms and a triumphant look on her face. “You’re sweating out this fever so you don’t infect people when you go to work the day  _ after tomorrow. _ ”

Rolling his eyes, Paul holds out his hands for the blankets, but she doesn’t give them to him. Instead, she sets them down by his feet, and begins unfolding the one at the top of the stack.  _ Oh god.  _ He’s going to be drowned in fucking blankets. The room already feels like a sauna, and there’s not even sunlight to provide an excuse. Outside it’s pitch black and below freezing. It’s cold as hell, and he’s about to suffer. 

One blanket lands on his body, then she drapes another over him, and as if he isn’t on fire enough, she adds a third, and he’s certain he’s about to come out of this fever as a hard-boiled Sevi-egg. “Thanks,” he mutters, feeling utterly ridiculous in his blanket bundle, like he’s an oversized infant. 

“You’re welcome,” she sing-songs, then she begins tucking him in, and weirdly enough, he finds himself enjoying it, and as the warmth from the blankets kicks in, he begins to grow tired. His fever brain begins to kick into delirium, and he hums softly as Rey’s hands tuck the blanket fabric all around him until he resembles a giant, human burrito. 

“Feels nice,” he says, his eyes beginning to drift shut as he yawns, sweat beading on his forehead from how thoroughly overheated he’s become. “You’re nice.”

Rey snorts. “Kissing up to me won’t get you anywhere. You need to get better before I even  _ consider  _ allowing you to go to work.”

“Kissing you won’t get me anywhere?” he asks, misunderstanding her in his half-asleep state. “What a shame.”

“You really are sick, aren’t you,” she says with a laugh, and even through his dreamlike state, he can tell she’s nervous. “I said kissing  _ up  _ to me would get you nowhere.”

That ignites a new thought in Paul’s malfunctioning brain. “So kissing you will get me somewhere?” On any other day he would be screaming at himself for talking about this kind of thing in front of her, but right now she’s warm against his side as she finishes tucking him in, and he really loves the feeling. He wants her to stay. He wants to kiss her lips and forget about everything. He wants to melt into her. “Can I kiss you?”

She snorts, but there’s color in her cheeks as she looks away from him. “Maybe when you’re feeling better, and if you remember this,” she says, then she reaches up, and pats his shoulder. “Then you can kiss me.” A sigh leaves her then, and she prepares to get up and go, but then he reaches out, breaking his arm free from the confines of the blankets, and he grasps her wrist. 

“Wait…” He looks at her with the most soft, pleading eyes he can muster. “ _ Stay…” _

“It’s not a good idea. I’ll get sick, too, germy,” she teases, then she shakes her head as he sticks his lip out in a tiny little pout, and groans. “Paul… you’re burning up.”

“So…?”

Rey glares at him, then she leans over, and his heart starts racing in his chest, bringing him back into reality for a micro-second as she comes closer to him, reaching out for his face with both hands. For a moment, he thinks she’s going to kiss him, and his mind goes into overdrive; sweat beading on his forehead as he realizes that he’s not at all prepared for this, especially not in this state—

All she does is remove his glasses from his face, fold them, and set them down on the table nearby. He frowns as she becomes a blur in front of him, but then she leans down again to press a tiny kiss to his forehead, and he hums contentedly as he watches her smile upon backing away. This is perfection. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, he just wishes he were more awake to witness it. “I thought you were going to kiss me,” he tells her as the delirium sets in again, and his heart beats at a normal pace. 

“I’m not kissing you when you’re so delirious I don’t even know if you can tell you’re awake,” she replies, then she lifts up the blankets a little, and slides underneath them with him, wrapping an arm around his waist once she’s comfortably settled in beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow. “You can’t consent to a kiss right now, Paul, but I’ll hold you if you want me to.”

“I want you to,” he mumbles, yawning as his arms come around her to pull her even closer, and the heat-induced half-asleep state returns in full force. 

This feels astonishingly nice. It’s quite possibly the most at peace he’s ever felt, and with his high-stress government job, he doesn’t get to feel peace often. His eyes drift lazily shut, and he moans softly just from how happy he is. Rey laughs as she buries her face on the edge of his chest, then she tilts her head up, and he can tell she’s looking at him. 

“You’re a fucking furnace, Paul,” she whispers, then he laughs, too. 

“Will you let me kiss you once I’m no longer a furnace?” he asks, then he can feel her tense up and freeze beside him, but his fever-brain doesn’t let him feel the fear that should cause as much as he should. 

“You’d want to kiss me? When you’re well?”

“I always do,” he slurs, then he leans forward, and kisses the top of her forehead. “Rey… you’re perfect.”

She snorts. “So are you.”

Paul giggles softly, then he sighs, thinking of all the times he’s been tempted to tell her how he feels in the past year, but let his inhibitions get in the way. He’s been such a fool. All this time he could’ve been enjoying her company, holding her, kissing her, waking up next to her, and he hasn’t. He’s been too much of a coward all along, and now those inhibitions are gone. Now he’s delirious and drunk on their shared body heat, and as the temperature continues going up, he sighs as he gets ready to finally tell her what he’s wanted to all along. “I love you.”

Another pause, and for a moment, he’s worried. Has he fucked up? Is she about to leave and never look back at him again? Is Rey done with him for life now? Is he doomed to never be spoken to by his roommate again? Is she going to move out? Is she going to ask him to move out? He’s panicking, and for a moment he fears the worst, but then the hand at his waist gives him a squeeze, and she then brings her palm up to cup his sweat covered cheek. He’s gross like this, he knows that, but she doesn’t seem to care. “I love you, too, you idiot,” she tells him, then she sighs. “So get better, and tell me you love me again when you’re not half-drunk, okay?”

He grumbles something so unintelligible, even he can’t make it out, but nods. “Okay…”

Rey laughs at him, then reaches up to brush a piece of his hair from his face, the sweat soaked strand clinging to his forehead for dear life as she swipes it away, then lets her hand rest on his chest as they continue holding one another. “For someone so smart, you really are a dumbass sometimes.”

“Only around you, I swear,” he mumbles, his voice slurring even more as he fades out into unconsciousness. “Only you…”

“Go to sleep, Paul,” she whispers, then he feels a kiss be pressed to his jaw. “I’ll see you when you’re better, okay?”

“Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promises him, and he can feel her hand slip into his hair, stroking it gently as she assures him he isn’t alone. “You hear me? I’m not going anywhere…”

Her voice trails off as he finally slips over the edge into sleep, and he drifts off into blissful oblivion with a smile on his face. Ordinarily, he’d find sleeping while Rey is next to him a crime, but with what he knows is coming around the corner, he’s excited. He’s ready to wake up a new man, a healthy man, who can finally kiss Rey and tell her he loves her knowing he’ll be told he’s loved back. 

He can’t wait for morning, and for once, in spite of his workaholic tendencies, he’s excited to have the day off—he’s excited to have an entire day with  _ Rey _ . 

  
  



	18. Letters to Rey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ben's adopted daughter finds a box of love letters he wrote and never sent, she decides she wants him happy for Christmas. With help from her Aunt Gwen, she sends her the letters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  


The most commonly visited place by anyone in the Solo residence is the post office. Every day, the man of the house makes his way into work, helps people send packages, letters, and cards, before going about his business. Every day he writes a letter to the one person who probably sends the most letters and he addresses it, puts it in an envelope, and puts a stamp on it, but he never sends that woman a letter. 

He’s too much of a coward for that. 

For the past three years he’s known her, Ben Solo has been in love with Rey Kanata. Every time she comes into the store and greets him and his coworker—a lovely, but intimidating woman named Gwen—he falls for her a little more. Over the past couple of years, they’ve had wonderful conversations, and he feels like he knows her. Hell, he’s even been to a couple of her holiday parties— _ he knows her friends.  _ He’s absolutely besotted with her, and he tells her such in every letter he’s ever written, but he’s too scared to send them. 

Instead, he keeps those letters in a small box in his living room just behind another, larger box full of toys his adopted daughter, Sophie, calls her own. He hides them where no one will ever think to look for love letters, and his five year old is too invested in playing with Barbies to think to look behind the box, so he thinks it’s a success, and he doesn’t worry about the letters he’s hiding almost weekly. 

This, of course, is a mistake. 

Just around the holidays, he has to go out of town to run an errand for Rey and their mutual friend, Poe. It’s only for a few hours, but he’s going to be gone long enough that he needs someone to watch Sophie, and his usual babysitter is, of course, on a ski trip with her family. He should’ve known this was going to happen around Christmas, he’s just glad it didn’t happen when Sophie had been a baby. Leaving a child behind was hard enough, but whenever he’d had to leave her as an infant? 

He’d taken a lot more time off when he’d first brought Sophie into his life, dedicating himself more to being a father than anything, and for those first two years he’d had her, he’d been happy. He hadn’t needed anyone else in his life; he’d been perfectly content with being a single dad and raising her by himself, but then of course, Rey had happened and he’d started falling in love. Not even the busy life of fatherhood could prevent such a thing from occurring. 

Now he’s got to leave Sophie behind for a while in order to do something for the woman he loves—and Poe, but who’s counting—and he doesn’t know what to do. It’s a concern which he voices to his coworker, Gwen, who as the unofficial aunt of his child offers to watch her for the evening while he’s gone, since this is also her day off, and Ben all but collapses from how relieved he is. 

“Gwen, you’re a saint,” he tells her as he tapes up another haphazardly put together package, and puts it on the conveyor belt that’ll send it out to the trucks out back. “And I love you.”

“Thanks, Solo, but you’re not my type,” she replies with a wink, laughing as his eyes roll back in his head. “And you’re in love with that girl who keeps coming in.”

“I’m not in love with her.” It’s the biggest lie he’s ever told, he’s absolutely  _ gone.  _

Gwen cocks her head to the side, and all but guffaws at him. “Uh huh, sure, just tell me where the spare keys are to your apartment and I’ll watch Sophie for a few hours.”

“Under the mat,” he says, then he brushes off his hands after handling another package. “Just like everyone else’s.”

“Good to know. Anything she can’t eat?”

“Gwen, if my daughter could eat every single food in the world, she would,” he warns her, and his coworker does laugh at him this time, seeming to thrive a bit in his misery. He’d get the last laugh when Gwen had to deal with Sophie’s bottomless pit of a stomach. He really would. 

**

Gwen arrives at the Solo’s apartment a few hours later. Ben has been gone for only a few minutes, he’d just texted her that Sophie had gone down for a nap and that there was soda in the fridge and he’d already headed out so that he’d make it to the suburbs in time to complete his task. This was followed by several texts that are meant to be instructions but are really the ramblings of an overprotective parent concerned about leaving his child in another person’s hands. 

It’s oddly sweet even if it’s a little bit annoying. 

When Gwen walks into the apartment, though, Ben’s five year old is not taking a nap. She’s in the living room, yes, but she’s not curled up on the couch sleeping in front of the tv, no, she’s digging around behind her toy box, not noticing that her babysitter for the night has just walked through the door. The woman standing in the center of the room snorts her amusement, and the child nearly hits her head on the shelf above her as she whips around to look at whoever just caught her in the act. 

This causes Sophie to reveal that she’s not grabbing a toy, but she’s been going through a box full of different things entirely. In her hands are a series of letters, stamped and sealed, and yet not sent. “Auntie Gwen!”

“Hi, Sophie,” she says as she walks further into the room, and kneels down by her niece’s side. “What do you have there?”

Ben’s daughter looks down, brunette curls falling into blue eyes as she stares at the letters she found. “Dad’s letters.”

“Dad’s letters?”

“Yeah… he always puts his letters in this box and he’s always around so I never get to see, but he said you weren’t gonna be here for a minute, and I thought…” Her voice trails off. “I just wanted to see what was in them.”

Gwen nods slowly, barely listening as memories come to the surface of her mind, memories of Ben writing furiously during his breaks at work, hunched over a pen and paper with an expression full of so much longing, she always wondered who he was writing to. Swallowing nervously, she held out her hand. “Can I see one of those, Sophie?”

The girl nods enthusiastically, then she hands her aunt one of the letters, and beams proudly. “They’re all addressed to the same lady.”

Gwen snorts as she takes the letter, then flips it over to read who it’s addressed to. She’s not surprised to see Rey Kanata’s name written above the address, nor is she surprised to see it in the second letter Sophie hands her. She’s known for a while that Ben is in love with Rey, he’s always got this dreamy look in his eyes whenever she walks into the post office, and it stays there for hours after she leaves. 

“Sophie, if we open one of these, will you promise me you won’t tell your dad?”

“Won’t tell my dad what?” her little high-pitched child voice replies, and Gwen immediately high fives the tiny creature. 

_ Dear Rey, _

_ God, I wish I could send one of these stupid letters. I keep meaning to but then I chicken out and that alone is honestly probably a sign that you deserve better than me. I’m too much of a coward to admit anything, but you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You make me want to feel things I’ve never felt before. Everything about you feels like magic, you make me feel like I’m under a spell, but I never want this spell to be lifted. Please never lift it.  _

_ Maybe I’ll work up the courage one day to tell you in person, maybe I’ll actually tell you I love you the old fashioned way. Maybe you’ll like that… _

_ Dear Rey, _

_ Merry Christmas, I know you’ve never gotten any of my letters because I’ve never sent them but I know we’re both about to spend the holidays alone again so if I for once manage not to chicken out, here’s an invitation to spend some time under the mistletoe with me… or just to spend time together. I don’t know. This is the most awkward letter anyone ever sent, I’m sorry… _

_ Dear Rey, _

_ I brought Sophie to work today. I think she liked you more than she likes me.  _

_ Dear Rey, _

_ I love you. I’ve loved you from the minute we met, please tell me… _

_ Rey _

_ Rey _

_ Rey _

_ Rey _

_ I love you.  _

_ You mean the world to me. _

By the time she’s done reading her tenth letter, Gwen realizes that Ben’s feelings run deeper than she thought. Sophie seems to realize something, too, but probably not quite to the degree that her aunt does. “Wow… dad’s really in love, isn’t he?” the child asks, tilting her head up as Gwen reseals the last letter. 

“Yeah, he is.”

“We gotta help him.”

Gwen snorts again. “How?”

“Send the letters! Rey needs to know how dad feels!”

“... I think you need a nap.”

“But she needs to know! Dad can’t keep hiding this from her! He keeps telling me lying is bad, but he’s lying to her!”

Gwen is absolutely losing it internally at Sophie’s reasoning, but the five year old is right nonetheless. They need to do something, because Ben sure as hell won’t, he’s stubborn as hell and has the thickest skull of anyone she’s ever met. She and his daughter are going to have to save him from himself, or else nothing is ever going to happen between himself and Rey. 

“Okay, let’s go to the post office, kid, I’ve got an idea…”

**

When Ben gets home a few hours later, Sophie is fast asleep in bed with a big smile on her face and her eyes twitching as she becomes lost to dreams. He’s relieved that she’s asleep. He’d been gone for so long, he would’ve hated himself if she’d tried to stay up waiting for him, and so as he walks Gwen out the door and shells out three twenties, he feels content. 

“She’s a great kid, Solo,” his coworker tells him as she zips up her jacket. “You’re a lucky man.”

He can’t help beaming as he nods. “Yeah, she is. Thanks, Gwen.”

“No problem. See you at work tomorrow,” she tells him, then she makes her way from his building. 

He’s completely oblivious to the mischievous grin that’s lighting up her face. 

*

Two days later, he’s got the closing shift, and Sophie is napping behind the counter—bring your kid to work day, so much fun when her elementary school is on winter break—as he processes everyone’s last minute mail—five freaking days before Christmas—avoiding the piece of mistletoe some cheeky jerk had decided to stick above the register on his day off as best he can each time. Luckily most customers don’t notice it, and when someone does, he just tells them he doesn’t kiss in front of his daughter. 

It’s a good thing that excuse works, too, because as hard as he’s tried, he can’t get it down. 

He’s making another attempt at getting the bastard leaves down from the ceiling, when the bell at the front of the office dings to announce the arrival of a new customer. A heavy sigh escapes him. “We close in five minutes!”

“That’s okay, I only need three,” says a very familiar British accent, and his eyes leave the mistletoe to see Rey is wrapped up in a pretty, lilac coat and a scarf of a similar shade, smiling up at him from beneath her layers as she walks further into the store. “I need to write a letter.”

His eyebrows furrow as he steps down from the counter, and places his hands on it, glancing briefly back at Sophie to make sure she’s not awake. He thanks his lucky stars she isn’t as Rey approaches the counter, and places her gloved hands on it. Has his heart ever beat so hard in his chest? “Usually people write them before they come in.”

“Yeah, well this one needed to be delivered in person,” she says, and she almost looks nervous as she stares at him, leaning in closer than she ever has—oh god, the mistletoe—as she smirks at him knowingly. “Want to hear it?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Dear Ben, I got all your letters,” she says, and his entire body flushes pink, growing hot as he processes what she’s telling him. “I got all your letters and I loved every single one. I wanted to tell you that you don’t need to call yourself a coward, because I could’ve said something, too. I  _ should  _ have said something, and I’m sorry I didn’t because…” She takes a deep breath. “I love you, too. Like you said, from the moment I saw you, I knew. That’s why I keep coming in here. I send my friends cards when it’s not their birthdays and things they don’t need because I just want to see you, and it’s annoying the hell out of everyone I know, so I’m just going to tell you I love you now and ask you to get coffee with me sometime.”

His brain is short circuiting as he processes what she’s just told him, as he realizes she’s looking at him with hope in her eyes and a smile on her face. “You… you love me?”

“Yes, Ben, I love you,” she promised him, then her eyes flicker up briefly, and he knows she’s spotted the mistletoe, but she doesn’t say anything. “So please say something so I know this wasn’t all just some elaborate prank.”

“It wasn’t, I-I love you, and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you I love you in person. I’m so sorry I was a coward.” He laughs, not even sure how this could be happening—he certainly didn’t send those letters, but given the timing, he has a feeling he knows who did—as she reaches across the counter for his hand. “I’m so sorry, Rey.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m… I’m glad I know now,” she tells him, then she points up, acknowledging the mistletoe verbally. “I see someone got clever.”

“Probably Armitage. He’s always had it out for me,” Ben mutters, then he shakes his head. “I’ve been telling people off all day.”

“Will you tell me off?”

He freezes. “My daughter’s right there,” he says, cocking his head in the direction of the sleeping child. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” Rey looks down sheepishly, and even though he knows Sophie is right behind him, even though he’s working for another five minutes and he could totally wait, he knows what he has to do. “But who are we to defy tradition?”

She looks up. “Yeah?”

“There’s a piece of mistletoe hanging above our heads and I’m in love with you. Let’s kiss,” he tells her, then she laughs, and leans in over the counter, taking his face in her hands as she leans as far as she can go, then he meets her in the middle, and presses his lips to hers. 

His heart soars in his chest, his entire body feels like it’s buzzing with electricity, and in spite of the frigid temperatures outside, he feels really, really warm. The kiss is nice, or at least, as nice as a kiss over the counter of the post office can be, and it makes him feel giddy inside. The butterflies in his stomach are doing backflips, and he reaches around to wrap his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer as their lips begin to properly move together. 

It feels like a fantasy, like something out of those princess movies he always watches with Sophie, and he feels like he’s riding a magic carpet or dancing in a grand ballroom, he feels  _ epic.  _ He feels almost like it will never end. 

Unfortunately, his daughter is indeed still behind him, and five year olds aren’t as keen on kissing as adults are. From somewhere behind him, Sophie gags quietly, then says, “Ew, gross, dad!” And he and Rey break apart with a giggle. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, breaking away from Rey. “I had some unfinished business to take care of.”

Sophie glares at him, but it soon turns into a smile. “Did she get your letters, dad?”

“Yes I did,” Rey informs her, smiling warmly at his daughter as she continues leaning against the counter. 

“Did you send those letters, Soph?” he asks, tilting his head knowingly to the side. 

“Maybe,” the five year old says, then she crosses her arms over her chest and shrugs. “It worked, didn’t it?”

His mouth opens and closes a few times like a grouper fish as he realizes he’s been had by his five year old, but he nods. “Yeah, yeah it did, but don’t do it again, you understand?”

“Yes, dad,” she grumbles, then he holds up a finger in his daughter’s direction, and looks back at Rey. 

“So are you free tomorrow night? There’s a cute coffee shop around the corner,” he says, then he gestures briefly back to Sophie. “And the babysitter will be back in town so we won’t be interrupted.”

Rey nods. “I’m definitely free tomorrow night,” she assures him, then she grabs a marker out of one of the cups they have set out on the counter, and takes his hand in hers before he feels it pressing into his palm. “Here’s my phone number. I’m also free tonight if you want to call me.”

Ben’s jaw drops as she winks at him, then he nods slowly as she tells him good night, and waves goodbye to Sophie on her way out. He barely registers anything that happens until she’s all the way out the door, then when she’s gone, he slowly turns around, and pumps his fist into the air victoriously. “ _ Yes!” _

“Wow, dad. Auntie Gwen was right,” his daughter says as he comes to reality. “You got it  _ bad _ .”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he replies, because he can’t even deny it anymore. “Yeah, I do. Let’s get home, huh?” 

“You don’t have to work?” 

“Work’s over. Let’s go home…” He’s smiling as she gets up, as she grabs her coat from the floor, puts it on, and takes his hand as they both get out from behind the counter. “I need to call Rey.”


	19. Wrapped Around his Finger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a Gala, Kylo spots a girl wearing his grandmother's ring, the one he had always thought he would propose with, at least before he cut all ties with his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E  
pretty much immediately  


This isn’t how she thought the night would go. She thought she’d show up at her boss’s gala, have a few drinks, shake a few hands, network a little, and go home. It was supposed to be a boring evening, but right now she’s in the women’s bathroom sitting on the counter, the door is locked to prevent other people from coming in, and Leia’s son’s hands are currently wandering up her skirt while his lips—smeared with the red of her lipstick—paint her neck the color of rubies, amethysts, and sapphires while he leaves marks along the column of her throat. 

It’s no ordinary evening; that much is clear. 

Rey moans softly as his fingers slip beneath the hem of her underwear, one of them tracing the edge of her entrance as he groans from the feeling of how wet she is. “Ben,” she whispers, sensing hesitation in the way he moves. “It’s okay, you can touch me, no one’s coming in.”

He gives a small whine against her neck, then he gives in to the urge he has to press a finger inside of her. Both of them moan as his finger enters her, moving slowly, like he’s afraid, and she wants to wipe all his fears from his mind. She knows why he’s scared, he didn’t expect this, neither of them did. It’s an emotional thing he’s gone through tonight, seeing his mother for the first time in years, seeing the ring on her finger—

Ben is a mess, but so is she, and she just figures they can be messes together. 

That one finger fills her in a way as he begins to pump it in and out of her, and her head arches back to rest against the mirror behind her as he sucks another mark into her skin right by where her pulse is undoubtedly racing against him. It’s heaven and hell all in one, she’s going to be taken to fire and brimstone for this, but it feels so good she sees light in her vision as his finger curls inside of her, and she wants nothing more than to drown in him. 

His lips slowly move back up to her mouth, slanting perfectly over hers just as he adds a second finger, and both of them are lost in a frenzy of lips and tongues, the sounds of the party outside long forgotten as her arms wrap around his shoulders and she pulls him even closer to her. Rey’s heels dig into his ass, forcing his hips to move closer with hers, and attempting to convey to him just where she wants him. 

Ben doesn’t change position, though, not yet. It’s like he's waiting for the perfect moment, even though they established before walking in here that he had a condom, and he can’t even consider doing anything before that moment rises. 

She’s always been good at waiting, though. So she lets him fuck her with his fingers, kissing him all the while as she waits for him to do this properly, to hold her against the counter and release all the pent up emotions he’s keeping inside. 

A part of her is still amazed at how they ended up here. Still fascinated by how he hadn’t even greeted her with “hello,” and she’d wound up… here. 

*

There’s a massive, hulking wall of fucking black in her way. All she’s trying to do is go around the crowd, to get a better look at an art piece hung up on the far side of the room, but she can’t even get a few feet forward because a black suit and equally black tie has just stepped in front of her. The path to freedom is blocked, and she tilts her head up, glaring at whoever just got in her way as she prepares to give them a piece of her mind. 

She stops before she can start. The most distractingly attractive human being she’s ever seen is looking down at her. Dark eyes and pink lips that look as though they were stained by cherries are at the forefront of her vision, and her angry tirade is erased from her mind. “Ex-Excuse me.”

“Where’d you get that ring?” he asks, and  _ fuck,  _ he’s got a deep voice, too, but it’s trembling as he speaks, and that somehow makes it even hotter. 

Rey looks down at the ring on her finger, a glittering set of emeralds surrounding a diamond over a golden band. Her employer had given it to her when she’d promoted her to assistant manager of the company, saying she believed in her and that she’d felt like she’d one day become her protege. “My boss gave it to me?”

“Leia Organa?” “The one and only,” she says, then she watches his face fall, and he looks utterly devastated. It’s a tragically beautiful look on him; someone so gorgeous should never look so sad. “Are you all right?”

The man in front of her nods slowly, then he shakes his head within the same two seconds. “I’m supposed to tell you I’m fine, but… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” He takes a deep breath, then before she can prepare herself, her hand is in his, and his thumb is rubbing over the diamond at the center of the ring on her right hand. “This is… This is my mother’s ring.” He laughs almost bitterly. “I was supposed to have this.”

Blinking dumbly at him, Rey prepares to take it off and hand it over. She vaguely remembers Leia saying that she had an estranged son, but she’d never thought she’d actually run into him. She’d thought he was a myth, that he was just someone who existed as atoms on a gust of wind. 

“No,” he says, stopping her before she can do that. “Keep it, it suits you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes…” He then clears his throat. “Um… I’m Ben.”

“Rey,” she says, then she turns her hand over and begins to shake his.

*

Ben’s fingers curl inside of her again, and Rey swears she can see stars as she combs her fingers through his hair, listening to the way he moans as she tugs him in closer, and breaks away from the kiss. “God, please, fuck me,” she breathes, and within seconds those fingers are gone, making her mourn their loss as they retreat. 

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, and even though there are still tears from where he’d been crying after breaking down from confessing everything that had happened between him and his mother, there’s a grin on his face. 

“I do.” She sighs in relief as he finally begins reaching into his pocket, presumably for the condom he’d mentioned to her earlier. “Please, Ben…”

“Tell me I can buy you dinner after this, and I’m all yours,” he tells her, then she watches as a purple aluminum wrapper emerges in his hands, and he begins opening it as she reaches beneath her skirt to remove her underwear, letting it fall to the floor beneath them. 

She gives him her answer by reaching for his belt, undoing it as swiftly and nimbly as she can before she reaches for the button of his trousers, then the zipper, undoing them both before she starts pulling the fabric down over his hips, freeing the erection she’d seen trying desperately to break free earlier. 

He’s just finishing getting the condom out of the wrapper when she begins to stroke him, whispering filthy things into his ear as he slowly begins to roll the condom over his tip. She sighs into his ear as he moves her hands away, and they reunite themselves with his wavy hair as their lips come together, and he begins to guide himself toward her entrance.    


The first touch of his tip to her cunt is barely anything, but then he begins to press into her, and she starts feeling like she’s full, like she’s complete, and even at the slow, steady pace at which he’s moving, she feels like she’s come alive for the first time. After all they’d shared, how empty they both feel, this makes her feel right. 

Both of them moan softly as he pushes in further, and her heels dig into his ass again as she pulls him in close, then whimpers against his mouth when she wants him to know she’s reached her limit. They sit like that for another minute, and Ben wraps an arm around her waist, stabilizing them both as he breaks the kiss, and leans his forehead against hers. 

They breathe deeply for what could be an eternity, but also could be just a few seconds, and eventually, she sighs his name when he begins to move, thrusting gently into her as they both exhale deeply, meeting one another thrust for thrust as he fucks her into the counter, and bliss slowly begins to take over. 

“I’ve got you,” Ben whispers when Rey says his name again, sounding more desperate than she ever has before, and she can’t help but lean forward and reclaim his lips as she realizes that he’s telling the truth. For so long, she’s felt alone, like she’s been falling adrift through space, but thanks to a stupid fucking ring handed to her by a very wise woman, she’s been found.

So has he. 

“I’ve got you, too,” she whispers as she pulls away, then one of his hands skims down the line of her body until it’s resting on her thigh, and it begins to hike her skirt up her thighs as it makes its way due north. “I’ve got you.”

“Tell me you won’t let go.” He sounds like he’s begging, pleading with every word, with every thrust of his cock inside of her, reaching places her fingers have only ever dreamed of, and causing more stars to fill her vision even when her eyes are open. “Tell me you’ll stay.”

Gasping sharply as the fingers that have been skimming up her thigh find her clit, Rey nods, and begins to stroke his hair as sweetly as she can while she starts pressing kisses all over his face in a frenzied rush. “I’ll stay.” It leaves her in a rush, but she means it, she’s not going anywhere, and she knows he won’t either. “I promise.”

Ben groans as his thumb starts rubbing circles against her clit, and a wave of pleasure seems to shock them both. “God, Rey, you feel so good.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she whispers, and he does what he’s told. He shuts up and kisses her, and she drinks him in as his thrusts grow just a little bit more frenzies, a little more rushed in their pace. It feels electric, having him inside of her, it brings that cheesy feeling all the movies talk about when they mention seeing fireworks when kissing someone you love for the first time, and it makes her understand how love and all its little intricacies are supposed to feel. 

This was probably supposed to be a one night stand, but it is now anything but a one night stand. Hell, she’s now placing bets on whose place they’ll take this to after they leave, and she’s got a feeling it won’t be hers. Ben seems like the type to not trust someone else’s place on a first date, and neither is she, but she’s curious to see how her boss’s son lives. 

“Rey, I’m gonna come,” he warns her a few minutes later, and it makes her realize that when he does, she won’t be far behind him. 

“Then come,” she tells him, and Ben soon buries his face in her neck, planting more kisses over where he’d left bruises, like he’s trying to soothe the agitated skin there as he lets out a few muted whimpers, and she hears him groan against her throat as he finally comes inside of her. 

He doesn’t let that deter his focus, though, in what little time he has left, Ben increases the friction at her clit, speeds up his thrusts, and with the combined, filthy sounds of his orgasm, she follows him over the edge a few seconds later, both of their visions whiting out as they grasp one another tightly. His name is on her lips, and she can’t stop saying it. She can’t say anything but his name, and she never wants to say anything else again. 

“Ben…” 

“I’m here,” he says, pulling back from her neck so she can look into his eyes when he says it, and she gets temporarily distracted by all the smears of her red lipstick on his filthy, full lips as he repeats the statement. “I’m here.”

Panting hard, she doesn’t know what to say, so she just wraps her arms around his neck, and holds him close, uncaring that he’s now gone limp inside of her. She just needs to hold him for a few more seconds. She just needs to feel him close so she doesn’t feel like she did before they walked in here. 

It’s a while before she finally does let him go, before either of them puts their clothes back into position or bothers to wipe away the smudged lipstick. Once they’re done with that, though, once they’re put together and she’s no longer on the counter, they’re back under the spell of each other. Their pupils are blown and their eyes are wide as they’re staring at each other, almost like they can’t believe this just happened. 

“S-so d-dinner?” Ben asks, causing her to giggle helplessly as she looks up at him. 

“Absolutely,” she replies, then she takes his hand, feeling his thumb brush over the ring she wears as she steps closer to him. “Where are we going?”

“Wherever you like.”

“Sushi?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says, then they walk toward the bathroom door, he unlocks it, and together they step out into the party, but they’re not staying to have drinks, they’re making their sneaky escape through the back of the room. They’re in the shadows where no one will see them, and for once, she’s grateful for that. 

They’ve always been in the dark, but together, they’re each other’s light. They’re both lost souls, but somehow, at this party, just at the border of sober and tipsy from two glasses of wine, they’ve been found. 


	20. Mr. Darcy is a Punk Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To avoid spending any more time than necessary with her foster father Plutt, Rey visits the local library every day after school. Every week Rey leaves small notes at the last page of her favorite book ‘Pride & Prejudice’. One day, Ben Solo finds her notes and continues visiting the library to check on the book until he finally spots Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> **disclaimer I know nothing about Pride and Prejudice this all comes from sparknotes, high school style, which is fitting because this is a high school au  


_ I’ve read this book five times. Five. Fucking. Times. And every time, I come to the same conclusion: _

_ Mr. Darcy, as much as I love him, was a punk bitch.  _

_ No I do not take criticism _

Ben blinked at the note he’d just read. It was the last place he’d been expecting to find discourse on  _ Pride and Prejudice’s  _ Byronic hero, but here it was, in an old book in a fucking high school library. He winced as he flipped to another, random page, hoping the pink-haired, eccentric librarian wasn’t wandering around anywhere to see that note and assume he’d scribbled it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Who the hell had balls big enough to scribble a note like this into a book that was public property? Maybe Ben was just too much of a goody two shoes, but it seemed like the kind of thing that would get one detention, so why risk it? Especially with a swear word in the note.

It was a recipe for trouble, and he really should’ve turned around, walked the other way, and pretended he hadn’t seen it, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. After all, he was in here to read the first few chapters for his English assignment, so technically he had an excuse to stay—

He just had to pray no one would see the note. Only he and the person who wrote it could ever know that Mr. Darcy was a punk bitch. That thought made him smile as he took the book over to the desks on the far side of the room, and opened it up to read. They had a little secret, him and this stranger, and it felt weirdly good to have. He wondered if the stranger would leave more notes, if he’d ever hear from them again. 

As he flicked to the first page, he had a feeling he would. 

_ “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife…” _

*

It was on a post-it note the next time he walked in. 

_ I’ve tried my luck too much with actually writing in this thing, so this time I pre-scribbled it. I don’t even know if anyone is reading these, but I guess they’re my way of feeling less alone. I know this is only my second one, but still. Today was just particularly hopeless.  _

_ You ever just feel hopeless, reader? _

_ P.S, Mr. Darcy’s still a punk bitch.  _

Ben felt his heart sink a little for the person writing the notes. Someone funny and clever enough to think up the phrase, “Mr. Darcy is a punk bitch,” was suffering from some unknowable evil, and he didn’t know how to stop it. 

_ Fuck _ chapter five. He needed to find whoever this was and try to help them. No one should ever feel so alone that they felt they had to cry out for assistance in a little note in a library book. His homework was just gonna have to wait a few minutes. 

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Ben threw the navy blue fabric of his Naboo High hoodie over his head, and bent down to get a pen from his bag—well, that and a thing of post-it notes. Once it was in his hand, he clicked the rear end of the pen, and began immediately scribbling out a response. 

_ So I’m only on chapter five, but could you tell me why exactly Mr. Darcy is a punk bitch? _

_ P.S, I’ll give you my phone number next time if you need someone to talk to. I hope you’re doing okay. _

Was that too short? Whoever wrote the post-it sounded utterly miserable, but he couldn’t tell if they actually wanted him to reply or if they wanted his help or not. 

All he could do was hope, really, so he stuck the post it note beneath the original, both of which lying beneath the original Mr. Darcy is a punk bitch note, and turned the pages back to chapter five. Taking in a deep breath, he prayed that no one was around still as he pressed his lips together, then mumbled the first lines of chapter five quietly to himself. 

“ _ Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood…” _

*

The next day, a tiny sliver of a pink post-it note poked out of the book, and Ben’s heart started racing, a smile rising to his face as he pulled the book from the self, and walked to the back of the library to see what they’d written that day. His fingers trembled slightly as he sat down and opened the back of the book, finding that just to the left of “Mr. Darcy is a punk bitch,” was a new note. 

_ I’m okay. My foster father is just an asshole and I like escaping him for a few hours every day by sitting in here and… doodling in books? I guess? Anyway, I’m doing better now… today. Your note made me smile. I thought it was sweet. I don’t know who you are, but I hope you’re not an asshole. You’re not Armitage Hux or anything, are you? _

_ P.S, see chapter 34. Or really the chapter where he dismisses her as “not handsome enough.” Don’t get me wrong, I like the idiot, but he’s an idiot nonetheless.  _

_ And a punk bitch _

Ben laughed as he set the book down, then he moved to turn the pages back to chapter thirty four, when suddenly a shadow loomed over him. He glanced up to see one of the girls in his fourth period English class standing awkwardly by his table, one hand grasping the strap of her backpack and the other in a fist beside her. 

Before he could say anything, she put her hand on the book, and prevented him from opening it and seeing what was in chapter thirty four. “Don’t read ahead,” she told him, looking sternly into his eyes. 

“What?”

“Don’t read ahead. It’s a good book, don’t fucking spoil yourself, dipshit.”

“ _ Dipshit?” _

“Yes, dipshit. Only dipshits read ahead and spoil themselves.”

“My name’s Ben,” he said, laughing slightly at the term dipshit. “If you’re looking for something to call me.”

“I know, we sit near each other in Ms. Kanata’s fourth period class,” she replied, then she held out her hand. “But I guess we’ve never formally met, so I’m Rey.”

He shook her hand, finding it surprisingly warm in spite of how small it was. Her handshake was firm, confident like she meant business, and he found something in her eyes that drew him in, made him like her instantly even though she’d called him a dipshit on sight. “Hi, Rey, if I read up to chapter thirty four instead of skipping ahead, will I no longer be a dipshit?”

“That depends,” she replied, then she walked around, and sat down in the chair beside him. “This counts as class work right?”

“What does?”

“If we read together… you know, if I help your dumb ass through the book?”

Ben laughed. “What, are you saying we should take turns reading parts? Read it out loud to each other?”

Rey nodded. “Yes. It’d get me away from my foster father, get my assignments done, and… I don’t know, you don’t seem annoying.”

“You mean I’m not Armitage Hux?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” she said, then they both laughed, and she shrugged. “I don’t know, Ben, you seem sweet, and I like you, so… what do you say?”

Ben thought for a moment, but he wasn’t really thinking at all. He’d agreed to what she’d proposed the minute she’d said it, and so he nodded, and gave her his affirmative, “Do you want to go over it at my house? We can switch off who’s reading and who’s taking notes every other chapter?”

The girl sitting by his side gave him a warm smile, then she nodded toward the book. “We’ll have to check it out. Or steal it. I’ve sort of become the master at taking things from this library without anyone noticing.”

“ _ Steal it?” _ he asked incredulously, those stupid goody two shoes genes kicking in once again. 

The back of Rey’s hand came up to smack his arm. “Yeah, steal it, but…” she paused, looking between his eyes for a moment before seeming to come to a conclusion. “You don’t seem like you’re up for that.”

“No,” he admitted, then he felt his cheeks flush with heat that he knew would tinge them pink. “I can check it out if you want?”

“No, let me. It’s my favorite book anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. In spite of Darcy being a punk bitch, it’s a great book, and I think we’re about to have a fucking fantastic time reading it.”

He felt the corners of his mouth twitch up. “What makes you say that?” he asked, propping his elbow up on the table as he looked at her. 

The smirk that blossomed on her face in response was perfect. “See chapter sixty,” she replied. 

“Wait there’s sixty chapters?”

“Don’t worry, they’re all pretty short, but what do you say? Do you want to get out of here and spend the next several hours analyzing the shit out of this book?”

Honestly, at that point, he just wanted to spend his next several hours with her. In all his three years at Naboo high thus far, he’d sort of struggled to make friends. He’d made a few acquaintances, but no one he’d really wanted to commit time to getting to know. Rey, however, had come into his life five minutes ago and instantly assured him he liked her, and suddenly he found himself more than ready to find out why Mr. Darcy was such a punk bitch as she so claimed. “Have I ever wanted to do anything else?”

Rey beamed at him, then she reached out and took his hand, grabbing the book in the other one as they both stood up, and he let her guide him toward the front desk of the library to honorably check out the book. “Trust me, you’re going to love this.”

He couldn’t help smiling back at her as he nodded. “I think you’re right,” he said as she handed the librarian their book, then the adventure kicked off. 

_ “I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.'' _


	21. CodeName: KI-RA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben doesn’t know what to do when his soulmate bond snaps into place. He never expected to be bonded to the rogue spy (codename Kira), he was sent to 'take care of.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


Adrenaline spikes most when the body is going through one of a number of things: an emotionally charged event, a moment of intense stress, or being in mortal danger amongst them. It’s a rush of hormones and pure electricity racing down one’s veins that makes them become, essentially, Superman. 

Running for his life, though, Ben Solo feels like anything  _ but  _ Superman. He keeps looking over his shoulder as he and his nemesis race through the rafters of this building, running on things that shouldn’t support the weight of one person, much less two, as they move. It’s a marvel that they’re both not dead yet as he jumps from one ledge to another, possibly twisting his ankle in the process as he moves. 

He’s going to have to see a medic about that later, but right now all that matters is staying alive. 

Ben crashes through a window, glass shattering everywhere and undoubtedly creating minor lacerations on his hands and face. He’s going to be a mess by the end of this mission, but he will, at bare minimum, also be alive. 

Landing like a cat on both legs on a nearby building’s roof, Ben continues to run, until gunshots sound from behind him, and he pauses, realizing he can’t outrun bullets, and those were warning shots. Sighing dramatically, he puts his hands up, and slowly turns around to face the shooter. 

Kira comes into view immediately. Brunette waves cascade down her back, tied in a half-up half-down style that keeps the majority of it out of her face, but the wind up here where they are is trying its damnedest to block her view. If the wind is successful, he stands a chance at getting out of here. 

Her red lips are twisted into a scowl, her stare is firm down the barrel of her gun, and he can see the hole where the bullet that’ll kill him will come out staring at him like a third eye. “Kylo Ren,” she says, and suddenly his arm is  _ burning.  _

The world feels like it’s on fire, his inner forearm is now burning, and he can’t help crying out in pain. It feels like he’s being branded with an iron, like he’s touching a hot stove, but no matter what he does he can’t get away from it. “ _ Ah! _ ” He grunts from the pain, wanting to collapse from the sheer agony he’s in, but he can’t do that. She could shoot, even though he’s sure she’s confused as hell about what’s happening, she could assume he’s faking this and shoot. 

As quickly as he can, Ben rolls up the sleeve of his jacket, looking down at what’s going on with his skin that could possibly be causing this pain. It can’t be a gunshot, he would’ve heard it, felt it at least, right? Maybe he’s in shock, though, maybe one of her bullets hit him and the pain didn’t register for a minute because he was so shocked, but that’s not the case. His sleeve rolls up, and he can see a new brand on his arm, the letters still hot with embers from an invisible fire that he knows could only have been started from one thing. 

“What the hell’s going on with you?” Kira asks him, and he looks up at her again, but he finds none of the disdain and loathing he’d felt before. Instead, there’s this weird, fuzzy feeling, almost like adoration, like he’s seeing sunlight after it’s been pouring rain for weeks. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Distract you?” he pants out, then suddenly  _ she  _ is clutching her arm, and his suspicions about where his pain has come from are confirmed as she drops the gun, and collapses. 

Immediately, he rushes to her side, watching as she writhes in pain from the very same wound that’s currently got him wincing with every single move he makes. It  _ hurts _ what’s going through their bodies, he knows she hurts as bad as he does, and he kneels down curiously by her side, feeling fresh pain ripple through his arm as he reaches out for hers. 

She snatches it away from him before he can touch it, holding it close to herself as she breathes in as deeply as she can. “Don’t touch me.”

“Kira, please,” he says, holding out his exposed wound for her to see. “You know what this is?” 

Both of their faces fall as they look at it, and he realizes now that the mark burned into his skin spells out her name, just as all the stories he’d been told growing up promised it would, but it spells out a different name to the code he was given. “Rey,” he breathes, and some sort of relief rushes through him as he looks down at her. “You’re Rey.”

Eyes going wide, she looks up at him, and he sees her lower lip trembling. There is fear in her eyes now, and while he can still see the fierce assassin lingering underneath, he knows there’s a more human, more vulnerable side to her now. She grunts once more from the pain, then she’s rolling her own sleeve up, and she looks at what’s written in the dying embers. “Ben.” Looking into his eyes, she repeats his name again, and they both nod. 

“I’m Ben,” he says, then they both freeze, realizing this is incredibly dangerous. They’re still on missions, they still have to take each other out. They’re each other’s targets, but this is… this is his soulmate. Their bond has just activated very painfully and very suddenly. Just as fate decreed, their marks, bearing their true names are now branded into their skin upon hearing the first words they spoke to each other, and this is the last place he’d ever expected to find his. 

Through the burgeoning connection that’s still cementing its place between them, he can sense her fear, her anxiety, and her overwhelming concern that this is even happening in the first place. He knows she can sense the same things coming from him, and now they’re both lost. 

“What the hell do we do?” she asks, uncurling herself from the floor as they both stand, regarding one another apprehensively as they begin circling around each other. “I can’t kill you now, but I’ll die if I disobey my mission.”

“We can’t hide these marks. Fate herself seems to have decreed we’re bound together.”

“It takes what… another half hour for me to start hearing what you’re thinking? We can’t go back now. We’d be putting everything we know in jeopardy,” she replies, then she swallows nervously. “We have to abandon these lives.”

Ben blinks, but he knows she’s right. They can’t go back to what they had before. They can never go back there again. All the people they know and work for and with, they can’t speak to them. They’re putting those people in danger if they choose to live. The real right thing to do would be to end it right now, take those guns and off one another as painlessly as possible, but he can’t do that; his biological drive, his instinct won’t  _ allow  _ him to do that, and neither will hers. 

“With our combined knowledge, we should be able to pull it off,” Ben says after far too long spent in silence just mulling it over. “Hiding? Running from everyone and everything we know? We can do it.”

“You’re sure? You want to hide?”

“We have to, you know how it works. If we’re separated for the first twenty-four hours after the bond has formed, we’ll be in a lot of pain that we won’t be able to hide.” He clears his throat, then they stop circling one another, and step in a little closer, allowing him to look down at her properly. “And I don’t want either of us to die before we get the chance to decide we want to be together.”

Rey takes in a deep, shaky breath, then she steps even closer to him, and they both shiver just from being in proximity together. The connection seems to grow stronger when she’s this close, and he swears he can smell a hint of a floral sort of perfume as she invades his space, but he finds he doesn’t mind it. Being near her is almost intoxicating, and Ben wants nothing more than to drown in her. “Okay,” she says, inhaling deeply as she nods in agreement. “Let’s try it, because I want to get to know you, too.”

Both of them smile at this, then he reaches out for her hand, and nearly faints when she takes it from the sheer heat the passes through his body. He feels like he’s on fire for a moment, and he can’t get enough of the way it feels to hold her hand, to look into her eyes, to smell whatever perfume she’s wearing, to hear her voice. 

The only thing he hasn’t done yet is taste her. Without thinking, Ben lifts her hand to his mouth, then he presses a kiss where her mark is still exposed, and they both hum softly from the contact. When he pulls away, his tongue comes out to wet his lips, and he can’t taste anything but the thin layer of sweat that must’ve been covering her skin, but weirdly enough, it feels…  _ right.  _

“We need to go,” he says, then he watches as she nods, and they both look off to a building just to their left. “We can make that jump, but I’m going to need your help.”

“Why?”

“I twisted my ankle when you were chasing me, and it’s starting to hurt like a bitch.” 

They both laugh, but then she nods, and laces her fingers through his. “Okay, then I’ll carry the brunt of the landing, but we need to go now.”

“Disable your comms first, we can’t have them hearing us.”

“Right.” 

They both reach up, and remove the pieces in their ears that connect them to their bases, throwing them on the ground before they stomp on them, then they tighten the grip they have on each other, and exchange another look. “Ready?” he asks.  “Ready,” she says, then they break into a run, and before he knows it, they’re flying into the night, leaping out off the edge into the great unknown, hoping that they stick the landing, that this will all be worth it. 

Then they run away, off into the distance where they can’t be found, and not once do either of them even consider turning their heads. Not once does either of them ever look back. The past is dead, who they were five minutes ago is dead, and they now have new lives to live, new fates, new destinies, and the only remnant of who they were at birth is now the mark on each of their arms. 


	22. In the Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s heater gives out and she calls Ben to come over. He thinks she called him to fix the heater, when in truth she called him to come keep her warm... But in a stunning turn of events, I made it A/B/O.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M  
SO I GOT DARED TO WRITE AN A/B/O AND THE PERSON WHO DARED ME TO DO THIS IS AN ASSHOLE  


Ben’s half asleep as he walks down the hall of Rey’s apartment building. He’d been just getting ready for bed, just putting his sleep shirt on, just finished taking his suppressants, when she’d texted him saying her heater was broken and she wanted him to come over. Usually when he came over, it was just a booty-call. It was him or her wanting someone to be there through his heat or her rut and it was just sex, just fun, and they tended to laugh, drink, hang out after and it was the most casual thing. 

Tonight, though, he has reason to believe that this is because she wants him to fix her fucking heater. She knows he’s good at that kind of stuff, and normally he’d jump at the chance to help his friend, but tonight he just really wants to go to sleep. 

Luckily, when he knocks on the door and she opens it a few seconds later, Rey’s in pajamas, too. She greets him with a smile, sleepily mumbling his name as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and for a few seconds, he’s lost to the scent of pure  _ alpha.  _ She smells almost masculine, like she buys cologne instead of the perfume most women wear, but underneath the scent that resembles Dior, he can smell a tiny hint of smoke and pine. 

It’s almost intoxicating, and he’s got another week before his next heat. It shouldn’t be a problem, but she’d accidentally triggered one for him before, his suppressants could fail them, and then he’d be utterly useless at fixing her heater. They both back away with an awkward laugh, then she lets him into her apartment, and he’s instantly overtaken by the cold she’s been suffering. 

Shit, no wonder she needs someone to come by and fix the fucking heater. This place is a fucking freezer. “Christ, Rey, how are you alive?” he asks, already shivering. 

“I don’t know, but at least I’ll survive the night now that you’re here,” she says, then she comes up behind him, and begins peeling his coat from his shoulders before placing it over one of the chairs at her kitchen counter. “Come on, let’s get to bed?”

Confusion makes itself known on his face. “Get to bed?” 

“Yeah, I called you over to keep me warm, dumbass,” she says, taking his hand in hers, and starting to guide him over to the bedroom. “What did you  _ think  _ was going to happen?”

Ben blinks a few times as they walk, then he realizes she never specified in her text that she wanted him to fix the heater. All Rey had said was that the damned thing was broken and she wanted him to come over. Suddenly he feels very foolish, and a blush creeps up his cheeks, heating him sufficiently as she guides him into her bedroom, then shuts the door. 

“Get in,” she orders him, and something tells him that regardless of his designation, he’d be doing exactly as she says. He’s more than happy to crawl into bed, taking the left side because he knows how much she loves the right. “Thanks for coming on such a short notice I know it’s late.”

“You’re my best friend, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like this is an emergency,” she reminds him, crawling into bed beside him before she wraps him into her arms, one of them falling over his waist and the other resting on his shoulder. “No one’s aching, no one’s just looking for a good time, I just… I’m just a baby when it comes to the cold. And… well, omegas run warm.”

“That’s not true,” he says with a scoff. “Just because it’s called going into heat doesn’t mean we’re hot all the time.”

“I don’t know, I think you’re pretty hot,” she mumbles sleepily, and he laughs, having forgotten how much of a flirt Rey can be when she’s tired. “Come on. Hold me.”

Ben snorts, but he obeys her command, wrapping his arms around her as he pulls her close to him, and suddenly the apartment seems a lot less cold in spite of the lack of heating available. Both of them feel warm, they’re warming each other up slowly as the time goes on, and he feels at peace. It all feels so peaceful that he almost just wants to melt into the mattress and fall asleep immediately, but then he hears Rey breathe in where her face is buried in his neck, her nose nuzzling right up against his scent gland as she inhales deeply. 

It sends chills down his spine. “What are you doing?”

“Would you ever want to go out sometime? To a movie or something?” she asks, then he freezes, wondering if she really just asked him what he thought she did. 

“What?”

“A movie, with me, just the two of us… like on a date?”

“You want to go on…” He pauses, unable to believe he’s saying the words he’s saying, and he takes in another shaky breath as he rubs his thumb over the back of her shoulder. “Rey, are you-are you sure?”

She nods, then she nuzzles further against his neck. “It can be a casual thing, we don’t have to take it too seriously, but I don’t know. I like what we do when we’re together. I like you as a friend, and given what I feel when I’m with you I think it could be worth it to explore… something else.”

Shivering slightly against her, Ben nods slowly, and shifts so he can press a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“You would?” 

“I would,” he confirms, then he shifts, adjusting his position so one of his hands is holding Rey’s chin, tilting it up so he can look into her eyes as he talks. “Rey, I like being with you, too. Beyond just the sex, and the heats, and… everything… I like you, too. So let’s go see a movie. I’m free tomorrow night?”

Rey’s lips tilt up into a smile, then she leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “So am I.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she shifts up to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Really.”

“Do you have to be anywhere tomorrow?”

“Not until noon, why?”

Ben can’t help grinning. “I was just thinking since I’m kind of wired now… I could just spend a while kissing you if that’s okay.” 

Rey nods, giving him the nonverbal signal that this idea is more than okay, and he hears a tiny giggle leave her mouth as he rolls over so that he’s on top of her, undoubtedly covering her with his warmth, and he feels one of her legs twine around his as he does so. Now he’s feeling the warmth, too, he’s practically bathed in it, and in her. 

Unable to help himself, he mimics what she’d done a minute earlier just before she’d asked him if he wanted to be more than friends, and he leans down to the gland on her neck, inhaling deeply as he presses his lips there. She moans softly as her hands come up to tug on his hair, whispering encouragingly to him as he pulls away, then looks once more into her eyes. 

Without saying another word, he leans down and does as he has a thousand times, and he kisses her, letting her take the lead the minute their lips touch. It’s soft and serene, not rough and hard like it usually is when they’re just hooking up. This kiss means something, it has a language of its own, and it tells him a beautiful story of just where they’re going from here. Not much has to change, all they’ll do now is kiss whenever they want to, but the heart of them is going to be exactly the same. 

Rey is still his best friend, but now she’s someone he kisses, holds hands with, and doesn’t have to just phone up for sex. She’s someone he can love properly, she’s someone he can hold in the middle of the night, someone he’ll probably eventually end up moving in with--

She’s his  _ alpha _ now, and he’s ecstatic to have someone like her in his life. 

Hell, he’s ecstatic just to be kissing her. He just wants to kiss her all day now, and he’s starting to realize that this is what they should’ve been doing all along. Not just fooling around, though that had been fun, but actually working on being together. He’s ready for them to finally be together. 

She begins to grind against him, and it starts to become more than a kiss as she does that, but he doesn’t mind it one bit. It feels wonderful, makes him feel electric and alive, and even though he’d come here with the intention of sleeping, he doesn’t hate the idea of what she’s doing. It’s slow, soft, and lazy, and it almost doesn’t feel like she’s actually trying to get him anywhere. 

All he can feel is close to her, and he thinks it might be the happiest he’s been in a long time as his hands drift down her back, as he rocks his hips gently against hers. Both of them groan softly as they kiss, then Rey’s lips fall away from his, and she presses their foreheads together as they both take a minute to breathe, and he can smell the arousal building between them, he can feel slick developing between his thighs. It’s no different than what they usually do, but this time it’s exciting. 

This time they’re doing this because they might actually be falling for each other, and they’re not just friends anymore. It’s different now just because of that. 

One of Ben’s hands drifts down to cup her ass, pulling her tighter against him as he seeks that sweet, sweet friction, that relief from the ache that’s developing within them both. His entire body is starting to grow tense as his climax builds inside of him, and he knows hers is too as she kisses him again, this time sloppier and less controlled but still very much heated. They’re both about to fall over the edge, he just wanted it to happen in tandem. 

Ben picks up the pace at which he’s grinding against her, and his fingers dig into her ass as he barely restrains himself from coming too early. He wants her to come first, he needs her to come first, but--

“Come for me, Ben,” she whispers in his ear, breaking away from the kiss to nearly make him lose control. “ _ Please _ .”

When she says it like that, when she whispers so quietly and so genuinely, he can’t resist her. He comes, but it isn’t overwhelming, it’s easy and blissful like everything else they’ve done that night, and while he feels like he is floating, she keeps him grounded as she follows him shortly after, both of them moaning as silently as they possibly can into the frigid air of her apartment. 

As it all comes to an end, he wraps his arms more tightly around her, pulling her close as he kisses her again, feeling as if he is drunk on sheer joy as their lips part and come together, as they melt further into the mattress. He knows he’s going to have to change his pants soon, but he doesn’t care, he just wants to be with her right now, he just wants to live in this post-coital bliss together. 

“Rey…”

“Shh… don’t talk, just kiss me,” she says, and he grins again, more than happy to oblige her request as he bends down, and kisses her properly, reveling in her warmth as the cold of the apartment tries to sink in on them. Together, they’re going to make sure it fails. 

This is only just beginning, but he knows, he’s always known, she’s his alpha, or rather, she’s going to be his alpha. One of these days he’s going to wake up, and he’s going to be completely hers, and she’ll be his. They’re going to belong to one another, and it’s only a matter of time before it's official, before he's finally, formally hers. 


	23. Tired Clits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has a modest following on twitter, where she frequently updates her followers on her brief interactions with the cute guy in her Intro to British Lit class. She soon realizes the account that always comments and likes her tweets /is/ the cute guy in her class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E  
which is hilarious because it's not actually smutty.  


_ @StingRey: Darcy boy is wearing a tight shirt today, y’all. he’s wearing. a. tight. shirt. I’ll be taking bets on whether or not he has an 8 pack immediately cause I can’t tell  _

_ @StingRey: does darcy boy have an eight pack: _

  * _of course!_
  * you’re imagining things
  * see results

It was truly fucking distracting. The shirt being worn by “Darcy boy”—known to her as Ben Solo—was way too tight across his broad chest, and far whiter than anything he usually wore. Though he was an undergrad junior, he looked like he’d stepped straight out of a page from a Jane Austen novel, and today she was silently saluting Colin Firth and his wet, sopping shirt for giving her rights. 

At the moment, Ben looked like he was wearing something stolen straight out of the lost and found. He seemed to be attempting to hide it beneath his hoodie, but he was doing a poor job of it, allowing her a glorious view of a broad, sculpted chest and— _ fuck _ —the outlines of his nipples. She was probably going to die today, a sweet, depraved death just staring at him, and normally this wouldn’t be a problem, really, it wouldn’t, except she’d actually gotten to know Ben, and well—

The universe had decided she was going to catch feelings. She was fucked. 

Class began as likes, retweets, and replies began pouring in in response to her tweet, her professor beginning to drone on about the book they’d be reading that week as the feedback for her latest thirst tweet began to come in. So far, they were theorizing that yes, Ben Solo did indeed have an eight pack under there, and that she needed to investigate whether it was true. 

Like she’d ever have the courage. They’d been in this class together for a month and a half, and she hadn’t ever mentioned so much as a hint that she found him attractive to his face. She probably never would. 

She was doomed. 

_ @SoloSoHigh liked your tweet.  _

_ @PicoDeTico liked your tweet.  _

_ @HoeDameron liked and retweeted your tweet.  _

_ @FinnItToWinIt quoted your tweet: “y’all know Darcy boy gotta be ripped as fucc” _

Ben was now casually jotting down notes as he sat beside her, his pencil moving over the paper at a speed a touch too fast for him to be writing what was presently visible on the professor’s power point slide. Apparently, he was writing something else. Curious, Rey leaned over slightly, attempting to read what he was putting on the paper, but then he pushed it over in her direction, and she looked up to see a smirk writing itself on his face. 

Blinking stupidly at him for a few seconds, she watched his eyes flicker between her own and the paper, then he pushed it a little closer to the edge of the desk, and she finally bent over to read it. “ _ I know this is 2019 and I could just send you a text, but I’m bored as fuck so hey I’m writing you a note instead. What’s up?” _

Her heart went into meltdown, and she tried to fight back a blush as she picked up her pencil, and wrote on her own paper.  _ “Nothing much, also bored as fuck. Uhhh… what’s up with your shirt today? Looks like you grew out of it.” _

An embarrassed sort of smile parted his lips, then he immediately set about writing a reply, shaking his head with every word he wrote before he slid the paper to where she could read it. “_Hux spilled cranberry juice all over me in Calculus this morning. Had to raid the lost and found for a new one. It kinda smells too much like axe, but hey, I’ll pour a cold one for the poor fuck who lost his shirt on_ _campus__.”_

Rey fought the urge to laugh, then she nodded slowly, and began writing out her reply. “ _ Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Couldn’t make it back to the dorms in time?” _

_ “Nope. And it was this or a crop top that said ‘THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES’ in all caps.” _

_ “Idk I think you could’ve pulled that off.” _

_ “Lmao why?” _

_ “You got  _ _ THICC _ _ thighs.” _

The minute she showed that note to him, she could see him starting to blush. On top of that, he immediately looked down at his thighs, inspecting them thoroughly. Her breath caught in her chest as she watched him run his hand over the top of one, making her imagine it running over  _ other  _ places as she stared at him. 

_ @PicoDeTico replied to your tweet: “girl you gotta tell us” _

_ @HoeDameron replied to your tweet: “who the fuck said he doesn’t have abs” _

“Do I have thick thighs?” he whispered. 

“Thicc, two cs,” she informed him casually, then she swallowed, and glanced at the front of the room. “Let’s just uh… pay attention like good students.”

He snorted at that, but before she could allow him to respond, she immediately buried herself in her phone, opening twitter to compose a new tweet immediately. 

_ @StingRey: y’all I can’t with this guy… he just ???????? He fuckin started passing notes with me like we were in 6th grade and??? I accidentally told him he had THICC thighs???? Please shoot me, it would be easier. My clit is about to be so fucking tired smh _

Hitting send would turn out to be the greatest decision she’d ever made, but at the moment she was turning beet fucking red from sheer embarrassment. She couldn’t believe that she’d just told Ben fucking Solo that he had thicc thighs. How the fuck had that happened? How had things gone so far south in just a matter of minutes?

_ @FinnItToWinIt liked and retweeted your tweet.  _

_ @FinnItToWinIt replied to your tweet: “I’m screaming wtf??” _

_ @HoeDameron quoted your tweet: “my clit is also tired thinkin bout this man and I don’t even know him.” _

_ @HoeDameron liked your tweet _

_ @PicoDeTico liked your tweet _

_ @PicoDeTico replied to your tweet: “this is a PRIME opportunity I stg if you don’t take it—“ _

Sighing dramatically, Rey slumped back in her chair, and refused to look in Ben’s direction. At least he hadn’t actually  _ worn  _ the shirt that said, “thick thighs save lives,” and spared her  _ that  _ embarrassment. 

_ @SoloSoHigh liked your tweet _

_ @SoloSoHigh replied to your tweet: “wait…” _

_ Message from @SoloSoHigh: “@StingRey, look am I stupid as fuck or has your name been StingRey all along because your name is Rey?” _

Oh,  _ fuck.  _

Her heart stopped beating, and she realized three things at the exact same time. The first was that she’d been thirst tweeting about this dude in her English class since day one, but had been historically extremely vague about what he was wearing and doing. The second was that last week, she’d gained @SoloSoHigh as a follower. The third was that Ben’s last name was Solo, and it stood to reason… oh god… he’d been seeing her every thirst tweet for the past week on blast. 

_ He’d just seen her call her clit tired because of how much she’d been jerking off thinking of him— _

_ Fuck fuck fuck.  _

_ Message from @StingRey: “oh god… Ben???” _

_ Message from @SoloSoHigh: “hey…” _

_ Message from @StingRey: “Holy shit I’m so sorry” _

_ Message from @SoloSoHigh: “No it’s fine. You were right.” _

_ Message from @StingRey: “????” _

_ Message from @SoloSoHigh: “I have an eight pack.” _

_ Message from @StingRey: “I’m so fucking embarrassed.” _

“Don’t be,” Ben whispered, then her attention was once again stolen by the guy she’d termed “Darcy boy,” and she was instantly caught by his eyes, by the sunlight hitting the mischief in them as it streamed in through the window, and Rey found herself a little bit enchanted by it. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” she replied, then she shook her head, and looked down at the ground. 

Ben laughed, then he opened up his phone again. 

_ Message from @SoloSoHigh: “Did you really wear yourself out thinking about me? Did you touch yourself because you couldn’t get rid of my face in your mind?” _

Her entire body fucking shuddered. 

_ Message from @StingRey: “Ben, you can’t text me things like this in class.” _

_ Message from @SoloSoHigh: “But did you…?” _

_ Message from @StingRey: “...yes.” _

_ Message from @SoloSoHigh: “what are you doing tonight??” _

_ Message from @StingRey: “nothing, why?” _

_ Message from @SoloSoHigh: “I was just wondering if you’d gotten your energy back up. Is your clit still tired, Rey?” _

She was going to pass out. She was going to faint right there and then and they were going to have to carry her out in an ambulance, possibly sedated. This wasn’t something she could survive, being propositioned by the boy she’d been shamelessly thirst tweeting about for six weeks. She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t going to live, but she had to. She needed to know what this was like.

One thousand followers needed to know what this was like. 

_ Message from @StingRey: “not tired enough.” _

This time, she was the one who was smirking as she looked back up at Ben, and found him to be the one who was blushing. “So whose dorm is closer? Yours or mine?”

“Mine, and my roommate won’t be there tonight.”

“It’s a date then?”

She winked at him and nodded, fighting back more laughter when he pumped his fist in the air right by his face, then they both looked back down at their phones, and Rey composed her next tweet. 

_ @StingRey: So… uh… turns out darcy boy was following me on twitter and saw the tweet about my tired clit. Needless to say it is no longer tired and GUESS WHOS ABOUT TO GET LAID????????????? _

_ @PicoDeTico liked and retweeted your tweet _

_ @FinnItToWinIt quoted your tweet: “WHEN I SAY I LIVED!!!” _

_ @HoeDameron liked and retweeted your tweet _

_ @HoeDameron replied to your tweet: “Does he do threesomes? Asking for me.” _

_ @SoloSoHigh liked and retweeted your tweet _

_ @SoloSoHigh replying to @ReyofLight and @HoeDameron: “He wants to do Rey first.” _

_ @StingRey: does darcy boy have an eight pack: _

  * _of course! 80%_
  * you’re imagining things 5%
  * see results 15%


	24. Safe and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a redeemed Ben gets injured on missions protecting Poe, Finn, and Rose, Rey asks why he’s being so reckless; he doesn’t want her to lose her family she found, even if it means he doesn’t make it. Rey knocks some sense into Ben about what he means to her as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  
Slight warning for frequent blood mentions.  


Rey was fixing parts on the Falcon with her coms turned off. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t have been a problem, nothing ever went so wrong that she didn’t know about it within thirty seconds anyway, but this wasn’t an ordinary day. That quickly became apparent when Rose Tico rushed into the cockpit covered in a sheen of sweat and an alarming amount of—

Was that blood?

Shit, that was blood. All over her torso. Spattered on her shirt in a terrible crimson pattern, but it didn’t look like a lot of blood at least? Still, judging by the look on her face, the last Jedi could tell that the blood loss of whoever had bled on Rose was bad. They probably were in the med-bay right now, or perhaps even holed up in a bacta tank. 

“It’s not what you think!” Rose cried, putting her hands up, then putting them back down when she realized they were also covered in blood. “Rey, he’s fine.”

“Who’s fine?” she asked, setting down her tool to walk over and inspect her friend, looking her up and down for any sign that she was covered in more blood than a person needed. “What the hell happened?”

“We were leaving our mission, we were going home… there was an explosion, and-and Ben he—there was so much debris everywhere and this pipe it-it came out of nowhe—“

Rey didn’t listen to anymore of it. She was out of the Falcon door before Rose could finish her sentence. Their friendship meant a lot for her but she knew she’d understand. After all, she was the only person who knew about the relationship she had with Ben. 

So she ran, pushing past other members of the Resistance as she rushed toward her injured partner at a speed hyperspace could only dream of. People shouted and yelled at her, but she didn’t care. She had to get to Ben, she had to be sure he was all right, and she didn’t give a shit if anyone found out about the love they had for each other, she just had to see  _ him.  _

Force, he was such an idiot. This was the third time this month she’d heard news from missions he’d gone on with Finn, Poe, or Rose—an effort to bond him with key Resistance members after he’d defected—that he’d been injured in combat. Each time the story was the same; he’d thrown himself in harm’s way so that one of their friends wouldn’t be hurt, and in doing so he’d gotten some sort of severe injury that landed him in the med-bay. 

She’d given him hell each time, and this time would be no different. 

Bursting into the med-bay with a furious look on her face, she immediately turned on the nearest doctor, demanding with a little more force than was probably necessary—oh, how Ben would be proud—to know where he was. Luckily, he was just resting on a cot in the back, and Rey quickly uttered an apology to the doctor before jogging to the rear of the room, where they kept all the non-emergency patients. 

Poe and Finn were muttering quietly to themselves over the cot in the very back, staring down at whoever was lying upon it—she already knew that was Ben—and occasionally looking back up at each other, nodding with concern.  _ Screw that.  _ “What happened?” she asked as she approached, and she could see the pure  _ fear  _ in Finn’s eyes. 

“Listen, Rey, we told him to be careful this time, I swear,” he told her as she made those final few steps to Ben’s bedside, possibly nudging Finn aside in order to look at what had happened to Ben. 

Whatever Finn and Poe said next was drowned out, echoing in the back of her mind as she looked at him. He’d been stripped to the waist, his shirts gone, his waistband rolled down to allow them to place bandages over his wounds. He was covered in gauze that was slowly starting to become more red than white in some places, but it was particularly bad over his left shoulder, where Rey assumed the pipe Rose had mentioned had come into play. 

It had her seeing red from rage and grief, she didn’t know how to breathe, she didn’t know how to think, all she knew was she was going to kick the ass of every single person responsible for the explosion and then she was going to kick Ben’s ass for putting himself in harm’s way again. 

“... Got hit by a pipe protecting Rose,” Poe’s voice interjected. “We’ve still got the pipe, we wanted a mechanic to look at it to see if we could see what had made the bomb. Maybe we could figure out who did this after that.”

Rey was shaking, barely listening, her arms were braced against the edge of Ben’s cot, her eyes glued to the blood and sweat still staining his face, which looked peaceful in sleep. God, she hated seeing him like this; it made her want to yell, scream, cry, throw punches, or do whatever she needed to in order to ensure that whoever had done this to him was—

“Rey?” Finn asked, waving his hand in front of her face. “Are you okay?”

She shuddered as she came out of her trance. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

Nodding slowly, she rested a hand over his chest—the part of it that wasn’t covered in bacta patches or gauze—and let the other come up to wipe a chunk of dried blood from his cheek. “What happened to him?” she asked, barely able to hide the tremble of her own raw emotions in her voice. “Is he going to be all right?”

Finn and Poe exchanged another look, then they both nodded. “He’s going to be fine,” the latter assured her. “We owe him our lives, he—I don’t know—sensed the explosion or something before it was going to happen, got Finn and I out, and shielded Rose. He took a pipe through the shoulder, but he’s going to be okay. We got him fixed up on the way back. Right now he’s just sleeping, the drugs will wear off probably in the next few minutes.”

The lump in her throat was growing thick, her rage giving way to frustration and grief. “Okay.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Finn asked, then he rested a hand on her shoulder. “I can get Rose down here if you want. I know you guys are close—”

“No, no need,” she said, then she swallowed nervously. “I want to be alone.”

“Okay.”

“With him, just the two of us.”

Both men standing beside her blinked, looking at each other with concern in their eyes. “Uh, Rey, that’s not really—” Poe started, but she wasn’t about to let him finish. 

“Please,” she begged, her voice breaking as tears spilled out onto her cheeks, and if her friends didn’t suspect that something was going on between herself and Ben before, they certainly did now. 

Luckily, things had changed drastically since Ben had first come to the Resistance, and after exchanging looks and a brief nod the two of them left without much else to say. Poe gave her a knowing glance as he laid a hand on her shoulder in passing, but then he and Finn walked away, and left the room, presumably to find Rose and see whether she was okay. 

Once they were gone, Rey looked back at her wounded partner, and allowed herself to sit down on the edge of the cot, taking one of his hands into hers, and pressing it to her lips. She didn’t care about the metallic taste of blood she could sense on her tongue as she pulled away, all she cared about was how warm his hand was; how  _ alive  _ he felt in her hands. 

“I know you’re trying to atone for everything you did, but why the  _ hell  _ did you do that, Ben?” she asked, her lower lip trembling as she set his hand down in her lap. “Why? You—Ben, I…” She sniffled, blinking more tears from her eyes as she looked down at their joined hands. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if one day you put your life in danger and you came home dead. Or you didn’t come home at all. I don’t—” Tears keep falling, washing away the blood that’s on his hands. “I don’t tell you this because I’m scared, and I don’t say it because I know saying it means it’s real, but I want it to be real, I’m… I’m ready for it to be real now.”

Sniffling again, Rey reached up to wipe a few tears away from her cheeks, then she exhaled shakily, gripping his hand perhaps a little too tightly as she tried to find the courage to say what she needed to say next. “I can’t have you doing this anymore, I can’t have you risking your life. I need you—I need you to stay, because I—I… I love you. I know it’s probably obvious, and this is stupid of me to be telling you, but… I mean it, I love you.” She looked down as she let more tears fall, then she fell quiet, certain he hadn’t even heard her say her piece. 

When he squeezed her hand, though, she quickly realized she was wrong. Looking up, she saw that his eyes were blinking open, the corners of his mouth tilted up ever so slightly in the hint of a warm, wonderful smile. 

Unable to believe what she was seeing, Rey blinked several times to assure herself that it was. “Ben…?”

“I love you, too,” he whispered, his voice a little hoarse from his time under sedation, but otherwise, he seemed perfectly clear. “Rey, I… I love you.”

She didn’t even give herself time to think. As carefully as she could, she threw herself at him, wrapping him into her arms as she pressed desperate, frenzied kisses to the side of his face, all the while yelling at him to never do that to her again. “Damn it, Ben,” she whispered. “Damn you.”

“I thought you loved me.”

Kriff, he was a little shit, wasn’t he? “I love you,” she promised him. “I love you so much, but I’m going to slap you the second you recover for giving me another heart attack.”

Ben laughed softly, then he groaned. “Rey, you’re leaning on my—”

“Sorry,” she breathed, then she backed away, looking into his eyes again as she let go of his hands to place her palms against the sweaty warmth of his face. “I wouldn’t have anything to hurt you with if you weren’t a moron.”

“I didn’t want any of them to get hurt,” he told her, placing a hand over hers. “I know how much they all mean to you. They mean a lot to me, too.”

Rey took in a deep breath, then leaned down to press her forehead against his. “I know, I know, I just… I’m going with you from now on. I can’t just keep sitting here while you ‘bond’ with my friends on these missions and keep getting hurt. I can’t just—”

“You don’t have to,” he replied. “I promise I’ll ask for you to come with us next time.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes,” she said, then she leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Now please just let me hold you and pretend you’re never going to be in trouble again.”

Snorting quietly, Ben weakly lifted his arms, and wrapped them around her waist, both of them humming contentedly as she leaned back in, and kissed him properly. It was a soft, gentle, closed-mouthed kiss, born simply of them both reveling in the simple joy that they were alive. His hands wound themselves into her hair, and she relaxed against him, not caring about the amount of dirt and blood she was getting on her white clothing as she kissed the man she loved. 

All she cared about was that he was safe, that he was by her side, and together, they were going to be okay. They’d be by each other’s side from here on out, and maybe she’d be able to stop him from putting himself in harm’s way in the future. From then on, he didn’t have to brave it alone.

From then on, they had each other. 


	25. Bi Bi Biceps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At a thanksgiving party, Ben and Rey’s friends lock them in a closet until they sort out their issues. They get revenge by faking sex noises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M  


“I want to start by saying, this is your fault.” She hears him say, and her eyes roll back in her head, which then thumps against them wall as Ben bangs on the door a few more times. “Come on, you assholes, let us out!”

“Ben, they’re not letting us out. Not until we work through our shit,” she tells him, then she shifts forward, and sighs. “We might as well try.”

Scoffing, Ben steps back from the door, and puts his head in his hands as he slumps to the floor beside her. Both of them fall silent for a few seconds, listening to the sounds of the party outside. Right now, she can hear Rose’s laugh, can smell the food as the scent wafts in through the bottom of the door, and it’s killing her. She should be out there with her friends, but instead she’s in here, being absolutely miserable with Ben. All because of one stop argument over who would eat the last piece of pumpkin pie. 

She hates it. She hates  _ him.  _

A few more seconds pass in silence, then she watches his fist clench, and she looks up in concern. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he replies, then he shakes his head. “We should be out there enjoying the party, not just trapped in here suffering while Poe devours all the turkey.”

“To be fair to our friends, we were both being quite annoying,” she reminds him, then she shrugs. “But I agree. It sucks. What are we going to do about it?”

“What do you mean ‘what are we going to do about it?’” he asks, sounding bewildered as he begins to roll up his sleeves, and Rey’s eyes are drawn instantly to his forearm, her breathing coming just a touch faster as she catches sight of the corded muscle there, the veins in his arms—

“I-I mean we’re going to have to do something to get out of this closet,” she says, forcing herself to look away as he rolls up his other sleeve, and she feels like a Victorian lady needing a fainting couch. She shouldn’t find Ben hot, she hates his guts, but  _ fuck _ , she finds him incredibly good looking. It’s honestly unfair. He’s built like a Greek god and has lips that look like they were made to be kissed. On top of that his hair looks consistently like someone ran the worlds best curling iron through it and she wants to tangle her fingers in it. She—needs to stop thinking like that. “Or I don’t know, maybe we’ll do something crazy. Get revenge.”

At this, Ben peers down at her, and those lips tilt into a smirk. “Revenge?” He laughs softly to himself, then he shifts a little closer to her. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. We could try… screaming? Annoying them to death?” She doesn’t really have ideas, she just wants to make them pay—Poe in particular, since he’d lured them here. 

Ben snorts. “Yeah, sure. Screaming. The only way that could ever annoy Poe is if you’re having loud sex in his general vicinity.”

“ _ What?” _

“I’m serious. Poe gets fucked damn near every day, but the second anyone else has sex in the apartment he raises hell,” he says, then he flicks a piece of dust off of his arm. “Perks of living with him, I guess.”

“Well, we’re not having sex, so you better think of a new plan.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and stares firmly at the wall on the opposite side of the room. This of course, just leads him to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “We’re not.”

This time, Ben smiles, and she becomes aware that he’s not just smirking anymore, he’s genuinely smiling, but he still seems to have a secret. There’s something he’s not telling her, and she wants to know what it is more than anything. “We don’t have to.”

That secret still hasn’t been revealed to her. Frustrated, she groans. “What does that mean?”

Almost snickering, Ben undoes the top button on his shirt. “We fake it.”

“Fake it?”

“Fake it. Like  _ When Harry Met Sally _ . Fake it.”

“What we moan loudly? You know, shout, shake the walls, and everyone will believe we’re having sex?” 

Rey’s jaw falls limp. “ _ What?” _

Ben looks at her, a sense of knowing in his stare, then he begins unbuttoning more buttons, and for half a second, fear strikes her heart at the thought of seeing him shirtless, but then he removes the shirt, and reveals he has a t-shirt on underneath. “Come on, take off your cardigan. We need to take off a few layers if anyone’s going to believe we’re fucking in here.”

“We definitely don’t,” she says, watching as Ben’s hands then reach into that beautiful fucking hair of his, and she watches his biceps  _ ripple  _ beneath his skin as he messes up his hair. 

“Oh, I know, it’s just funny watching your reactions,” he says, then he reaches over, and she has to restrain herself from slapping him as he ruffles her hair into disarray as well. “So come on, give me your best moan.”

“I’m not moaning for you.”

“Come on, Rey just give me a little—“ Without warning, Ben lets out a low, deep moan, and she feels a shudder move through her whole body. It’s the sexiest sound she’s ever heard, and as much as she hates him, she also wants to climb him like a tree right about now. “ _ Ah,  _ fuck!”

_ Shit _ he sounds like he’s really getting fucked right now, and this is only the beginning. Still, Rey’s got a petty streak running about five thousand miles long and so she doesn’t moan. Instead, she simply kicks the door, and prays that it works. The noise is deafening in the small closet, and she can hear the sounds of the party growing quieter. 

Their plan is working. Well, it’s Ben’s plan, but she’ll be damned if she’s giving him the satisfaction. 

“Oh, Rey,” he breathes, making sure to say her name extra loudly, and she feels her face turn crimson red. He grins like he knows exactly what effect he has on her, and he moves back from the wall, shifting until he’s in a push-up position, and Rey realizes what he’s doing next. He begins doing push-ups, and with each time he pushes himself up he grunts like he’s thrusting into someone—into  _ her— _ and this is what death is like. This is what it’s like to go into the light. 

Death isn’t blackness and feeling empty; it’s Ben Solo’s fucking biceps and the way they move every time he brings himself down to the floor and back up again. It’s his stupid fucking arms and how beautifully they move, his forearms beginning to glisten with a hint of sweat as he looks her in the eye and fucking winks. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ Ben,” she breathes, and they both know she isn’t faking it at all. She is faking it when she adds a very extra moan followed by an overly enthusiastic, “ _ oh, yes!”  _ But his name? That’s genuine. They both know it is. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” he shouts, and outside, the party has gone completely quiet, save for the sound of footsteps approaching. They’re winning, she knows they are. Freedom from this stupid fucking closet can’t be far away. They’re so close—not to orgasm—to victory she can  _ taste  _ it. 

“Oh, god, Ben!”

“Rey!”

“Oh my god, yes!”

“Mmmmm…”

“Don’t stop!” 

They’re both on the brink of laughter now. She never thought she’d be laughing with Ben of all people, but tonight she can’t help it. There’s just enough booze in her system—that she drank before they got kicked out of the party—that she feels giggly and excited, and she wants to revel in the stupidity of it all, so she does. 

Rey and Ben are acting like utter fools. They’re being such complete morons it’s a wonder they have managed to make any convincing noises whatsoever, but somehow they manage, and eventually, he grins at her, providing another wink as he rolls over onto his back, then lets out another obscene moan that makes it seem like he’s coming. Realizing his intent, she does the same, deciding she’s going to let the world believe that Ben is good in bed after all.   


She owes those biceps something for how good they are.

Both of them shout each other’s names in fits of pure pleasure, accompanying them with more moans and heavy breathing as they “come,” then they both relax against the floor, both of them fighting back the urge to laugh as they listen to their friends cheer them on outside the door. 

Rey buries her laughter in the growing sound of victorious cheers outside the doors, then she looks down at Ben, watching as he stares up at her from the floor, but he doesn’t look like he is laughing. No, there is a smile on his face, but it is oddly… endearing. It’s almost like he is admiring her, and that, somehow, was sexier than any of the noises they’d been making together. 

“What?” she asks him, eyebrows furrowing in genuine confusion. 

“You’re wearing lipstick.”

“I am.”

“It’s quite red.”

“It is.”

“No one will believe we had sex if you didn’t kiss me,” he points out, and she hates him again a little when she realizes he’s right. She’s wearing lipstick. It would smudge all over him if they really kissed. 

Oh god. 

“So kiss me then, you coward,” she replies, and much to her surprise, Ben does exactly that. He accepts her challenge, pulling her into his arms before his lips find hers, and she can taste the vanilla scent of her lipstick on his lips as they begin to move together. 

The moans that fall from her now are real, undoubtedly so. She feels drunk on kissing him, and it makes her realize the sheer volume of how much time they wasted hating each other. Thinking on what they’d just done, the pretend they’d just acted out, she wonders if she should ask him if he’d like to do it for real. 

Wondering ceases to be simply wondering very quickly, though, when Ben’s arms wrap around her waist, his biceps flexing around her—eliciting another moan—distracting her thoughts for a moment as she realizes she can  _ feel  _ those arms she’s been fantasizing about on her fucking body. His hands then find their way down to her ass, cupping it gently as he pulls her tighter against him. “I have a condom in my back pocket if you want to make them think we’re doing round two.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” he tells her, then he pulls her in for another kiss as her hands rise to begin unbuttoning her blouse, and another chorus of moans begins to rise. 


	26. Auction This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Rey's friend signs her up to be in a sorority's win-a-date auction, she complains about it to her classmate, Ben. She's only venting, and she doesn't expect Ben to show up and bid on a date with her with the intention of getting her out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  


Being in a sorority was actually kind of fun. Most days, Rey found herself enjoying spending time with her sisters and bonding with some of the best women she’d ever met, but on occasion, there were still days she regretted ever letting Rose talk her into rushing together. 

Auction day was one of those days. Once a year, their sorority hosted a benefit to raise money for homeless children where the men on campus--usually from another fraternity--would gather with them and bid for a chance to go on a date with one of the girls in the sorority. 

So far, she’d escaped such a punishment--after all, every single frat boy on campus was utter trash in her opinion and she had no desire to date any of them--but not this year. After three years, after becoming a junior, she’d finally had the winds of fate sway in her direction. 

The auction was in six hours now, and Rey was currently staring at herself in a mirror as she painted her face to look like the perfect picture of the smiling, happy young girl she was supposed to be that night. 

“I still don’t feel like this is real,” she muttered as she gently began swiping a peachy blush onto her cheeks. “I feel like this is all some sort of really weird dream.”

The man she was talking to laughed as he fell back against her mattress, then he crossed his arms behind his head, using them as a pillow. Her eyes flickered into the mirror to meet his, looking into the mischievous golden flecks in his irises as he picked casually at a cuticle. “Why are you doing it, then?”

“Cause Rose isn’t single anymore and needed someone to fill her spot. Since Rose isn’t single this now means Kaydel is also not single and therefore, me, the only single one of our trio left, must pick up the mantle.”

Ben hummed in acknowledgment, then he sighed. “And there’s no way out of it?”

“None. Some fucking asshole is going to buy a date with me, and I’m going to have to suffer his company for hours.”

“Suffer?”

“Ben, you know all of the men in the fraternities on this campus are utterly despicable,” she reminded him as she reached for her highlighter, sweeping it over the high points on her cheekbones. “I’m doomed, I’ve just accepted it. At least it’s all for charity.”

He made another sound that she couldn’t decipher the meaning of, then he leaned back, now studying the fraying threads at the end of his sweater’s sleeve. The maroon fibers split out into the air, certainly not staying put as they were supposed to, but it made him look cozy. He looked at home, at peace, like he was perfectly content with the direction his life was going and the situation he was in. 

She wished she could say the same. 

“Can anyone donate or is it just fraternity members?” he asked after a while, shrugging to himself. “Maybe it won’t be all frat boys.”

Rey nodded. “Yeah, anyone can donate, but no one aside from the fraternity and sorority members shows up. Well, them and whoever’s been hired to cater the event.”

Another hum came from Ben’s direction, then he slumped back against the bed a little further, like he was trying to melt into it and become one with her mattress. Maybe he was. She certainly wanted to. “What does everyone hate it or do they just not know about it?”

Her brows furrowed as she highlighted her nose. Why was he asking so many questions? Ben was always inquisitive, it was the first thing she noticed about him when they’d met in English 1102, but this almost seemed… she wasn’t sure what it seemed like, but there was something fishy about it. Just what was his intent here? “I-I think it’s a bit of both.”

“Huh… interesting.”

“Why?”

“I was just curious.”

“Oh, I see,” she replied, turning around, and setting down her highlighter brush. “Look away, I’ve got to put on my dress.”

His mouth shifted in that specific way it always did when he was nervous. “Don’t you have a bathroom?”

“You can suffer for thirty seconds, unless you want to see me naked,” she warned him, then Ben--the second thing she’d learned about him was that he was a massive flirt--raised his eyebrows, and fucking wolf-whistled. 

If ever there was a time when she’d been very, very tempted to commit murder, this was it. “Maybe I do,” he replied sarcastically, then she grabbed her dress--a short cobalt blue thing she’d bought for ten dollars from Forever 21--from where it was hanging off the door of her closet, and began beating him with it, balling the fabric in her hands as she swatted at him like he was the peskiest of flies. “I hate you, Ben Solo.”

“Love you,” he said, then she hit him one more time before she gestured for him to turn around, and she finally got the chance to change. 

*

That night, the auction was buzzing with life, and Rey was bored as all hell as she stood alongside twelve other sorority members listening to announcers go on and on about the chances the young men would have--because apparently this ritual hadn’t been updated since 1962--with them. Oh, and she supposed it also involved what their money was going to mean to all the hungry children it would feed. 

She’d zoned out what felt like hours ago. She was practically falling asleep when each of her friends and sisters went up to be bid for. It was stupid and old fashioned, and she hated it, but she swore to herself everything else about the sorority was worth it. The friends she’d made, the family she’d found, they all made it worth it, right?

As time went on, she was beginning to severely doubt that. She started daydreaming that she was literally anywhere else, maybe at home, maybe back in fucking high school. God, middle school had to have been better than this. Sure, it had been ten years, but there was still enough residual emotional damage lingering within her for anger to be festering, right?

Or maybe she had just reached such a level of boredom that she had time to get mad about that time Armitage Hux had stolen her blue crayon in kindergarten. It had been the ultimate betrayal. She thought about that crayon often. Fuck Armitage and fuck that blue crayon, though. Without either of them, would she be in this situation?

Without a lot of things, she’d probably not be in this situation. She wished Rose and Kaydel had waited another month to get together just in the name of saving her from doing this. Both of them loved it, weirdly enough, using it as an excuse to figure out exactly which men on campus could be trusted and which ones couldn’t. For them, it was a research opportunity, for her, it was torture. 

“Next up is Rey Kanata!” a voice announced, and suddenly she was snapped out of her daze by the intrusive glare of a spotlight shining right into her eyes. 

_ Fuck,  _ this was the moment, wasn’t it? This was the moment that she was going to find out which of the bland, boring fraternity brothers was going to take her to some dull and overpriced restaurant and try and make a move on her before they both realized it was awkward and she never spoke to him again. At least it would finally be over with. 

Bidding started at fifty dollars. Just about every man in the room who hadn’t bid yet raised their hands high into the sky. The auctioneer announced one hundred, and the hands began to drop. The price steadily went up in fifty-dollar sums until they reached two hundred and fifty, and by then the sea of hands had fallen to just a few, but those few were stubbornly determined. Her eyes rolled back in her head, but she forced her smile to remain firm, praying for some kind of relief from her suffering. 

Just as she mentally began playing Bonnie Tyler’s  _ Holding Out for a Hero _ in her mind, Rey heard a voice seemingly answer her prayers. “I’ll put down five hundred!” a familiar voice shouted, and she knew instantly that it was Ben. 

_ What the fuck? _

“Five hundred?” the auctioneer repeated, then he looked around the room, and did the routine, “Going once, going twice,” speech before declaring the man who’d shouted five hundred the victor. 

Shock rushed through her when she saw him step through the crowd. She’d known it was going to be him from the moment she heard his voice, but still, somehow, in spite of all she knew about him, she was surprised that he was there, that he was saving her. 

The third thing she’d learned about Ben Solo was that he was rich. He came from old money. She’d learned this about him when she’d joined him for a weekend at his parents’ place with some other friends of theirs. He lived in mansions, and so maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he’d shown up there in a tux that made him look like he was going to the Oscars. 

Maybe she didn’t hate him at all, maybe she didn’t even hate him a little bit. In that moment, as Ben approached the stage with his hand outstretched for hers, she was pretty damn close to proposing marriage, actually. 

“Why the hell did you do that?” she asked as he helped her down. “Don’t you have a test tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, but I had a date tonight, and I didn’t think I could afford to be late,” he told her, then Rey blinked at him. “With you?”

“Oh.” She reached over and smacked his chest, then she scoffed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning to do this? I could’ve spent less time hating my life tonight.”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he promised her, then he squeezed the hand he was still holding. “But now? Now I… Now I just want to take you on a stupid fucking date. I did pay five hundred dollars for it, after all.”

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t know,” he replied, then as they walked out of the building and onto the streets of their little college town, he gave her another grin full of mischief. “Fast food sound good to you?”

“Does  _ marriage _ sound good to you?” she asked involuntarily, then she let her free hand cover her mouth for half a second before she opened it to give him a rushed and awkward apology. “I just meant--”

Ben, luckily, was probably the most understanding person on the planet. “Let me take you out first.”

“Sounds like a fair deal,” she replied, then she leaned against him, letting her head fall onto his shoulder as they walked down the street toward the nearest McDonald’s, the joking promise of a marriage hanging in the air between them. 


	27. I Think I Wanna Marry You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the war, Rey and Ben decide to marry. Their ideas of a wedding vary, Rey’s more, “say some vows and kiss,” and Ben’s inherited a lot of Alderaanian wedding expectations. 
> 
> Together they find a compromise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  


The sunlight was blinding that morning, filtering in through the open curtains of their bedroom as Ben surfed through wedding articles on a holo-pad. Right now, oddly enough, neutral colors and simple flowers were trending, probably some kind of symbol of peace now that all the wars and the fighting were over. He didn’t mind it, in fact, it seemed like the perfect compromise between himself and his sleeping fiancé, who didn’t want a big wedding at all, but was giving him at least a ceremony for his mother’s sake. 

And Rey looked fantastic in white anyway. It was arguably her best color, though he certainly didn’t mind her in gray either. His future wife was a vision in his eyes, but the vision he wanted to see the most was currently hanging in a bag on their wardrobe. The night before, his mother has brought by an old dress of his grandmother’s—her wedding dress in fact, the very gown she’d worn to wed Anakin Skywalker—and told Rey to consider trying it on so she could spare herself the pain of shopping for one. 

Of course, she’d been hesitant. She’d been scared by this whole process, finding herself terrified that she’d wake up and find it all to be a dream or some elaborate joke, and he’d tried his best to assure her it wasn’t, but there was only so much he could do. He was just going to have to show her every day how much he loved her, how he was never going to leave her as long as he lived, how he’d always be with her. 

He’d have to show her everything she’d never had before. 

Glancing back at his grandmother’s dress, he felt a warmth rise in his chest at the mental image of Rey wearing it. She’d look beautiful, and unlike the first marriage that dress had been a part of, he knew his would never falter. 

He was going to finish what his grandfather had started, and that was having a long and happy life with her. 

“Good morning,” Rey whispered from behind him, stretching her arms as she woke up, looking at him from beneath hooded eyes, then she crawled forward, and wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Looking at that dress again?”

He set the holo-pad down by his side. “I’d prefer to look at you in it,” he said, taking one of her hands and kissing it. “And good morning.”

“Nice save, but it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.” She pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his neck just below his jaw. “You’re the big wedding man, how could you forget?”

Another kiss was planted a little further up on his cheek, and he felt himself blush as Rey’s thumb rubbed over the back of his knuckles soothingly. “Actually, it’s not bad luck on this planet,” he replied, then she groaned as she kissed the corner of his mouth. “So if you’re feeling up to it, you can absolutely show me how you look in that dress.”

“Who’s to say your grandmother and I are even the same size?” She leaned forward a bit, allowing him to see her face out of the corner of his eye. That morning she was sleepy, but there was still something vibrant about her—maybe it was the hint of a smile in her eye, or maybe it was the love he sensed she felt for him in their bond. 

He turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as one of his hands came up to caress her cheek. “Only one way to find out.”

She groaned, but kissed him back for a couple of seconds, then she pulled back, and sighed. “Why did I have to fall in love with  _ you _ ?”

Ben couldn’t help snickering quietly to himself as she crawled off of the bed, and walked over to the dress. “Must be my bewitching good looks,” he said sarcastically. 

“Oh, absolutely,” she assured him, then she took the dress off of its perch on the wardrobe. “Turn around, the least you could do is not look until I’m finished getting dressed.”

Snorting his amusement, he obeyed her command, turning around so he was facing the opposite side of the room, watching the sunlight filter in through the window as fabric rustled behind him. The sounds of Rey undoing zippers and pulling laces filled his ears, allowing a sense of excitement to build within him as he watched one of the twin suns of their new home planet rise. “I was thinking as a compromise, maybe we could keep the guest list down to just friends. The whole resistance doesn’t have to be there.”

“Are you sure? You were fairly adamant that they all be present last week.”

“I want you to be comfortable, but I also want the wedding my mother was always planning for,” he explained, twisting the band of the engagement ring Rey had gotten him around his finger—she’d proposed the second they won the last battle, the moment the other side surrendered, he turned around to find her on one knee behind him with a ring held in her outstretched hands. It had been the best day of his life, but he had a feeling it would soon become the second best day once their wedding came around. “Compromise.”

“Hmm, sounds fair. Can we do it outdoors, too? Maybe by the lake like your grandparents did.”

“Yes outside, but no, not by the lake, I want our wedding to be our wedding, not theirs.”

“Fair point. The beach then?”

“Sounds lovely,” he replied, tuning his ears again to the sound of rustling fabric as she zipped something up. “Almost done?”

Rey laughed. “I will be once I figure out this blasted veil.”

“I could help—“

“No! I want you to see all of it, not just pieces.”

“Maybe if I close my eyes—“

Another laugh, then he watched her hands come up from behind him, covering his vision so that all he could see was hints of light trickling in around the edges. Lace brushed against the sides of his face, and he shivered again at what she must look like in that dress. “Promise to keep them closed?”

“Promise.”

“No peeping?”

“Absolutely none.”

“Okay,” she replied, then her hands faded away, and he turned around with his eyes shut, finding he was trembling as he turned around, and her fingers wrapped gently around his wrists. “This isn’t going to work.”

He shook his head, tuning into the force to see even though he couldn’t quite open his eyes. For a few seconds, he let her hands guide his up to his head, then he felt the lace beneath his fingertips, and he set to work, feeling out with mind and body to adjust the difficult veil atop her head. “It’s going to work, just trust me.”

She sighed, sounding slightly exasperated, but then he felt the moment he got it right, and smoothed the lace over her hair before he stepped back, and she let go of his wrists, but he still didn’t open his eyes. “I’ll tell you when.”

“I know.”

“You can open your eyes,” she said a second later, then he opened them to the most stunning thing his eyes had ever seen. 

His grandmother’s dress fit her perfectly, hugging every curve where it was supposed to, sleeves falling right down to her wrists. The neckline highlighted the gentle swell of cleavage on her chest, but didn’t overexpose her, and the skirt just barely brushed the floor as she gave it a half-hearted twirl, then held up her hands. “Wow…”

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” she asked, looking up at him from beneath the edge of the veil. “I feel like a fool.”

Though he was an entire three weeks early, he had only one course of action he could take, and so Ben Solo stepped forward, took her face in his hands, and kissed his bride like this was his last day in the galaxy. Seeing Rey in that dress had affected him in some way, had made him feel a new strand of destiny tying itself between them. His heart had beat out something akin to music, like a love song, and all he could think about was how lucky he was and how much he loved her. 

Something about Rey in that dress made him want to laugh, smile, cry, write songs of pure joy even though he was no musician, and shout from rooftops that this woman in his arms, whom he was currently kissing senseless, was his wife. Suddenly he understood why she wanted it to be just them and their vows, because he couldn’t do this planning thing anymore, he needed to be married to her immediately. 

A feeling began developing within him as he kissed her that she felt the same way, and the sole reason he didn’t pull away from the kiss immediately and drag her off to elope somewhere, was that he’d made a promise to his mother. Their wedding would always be an occasion which he remembered, but he knew a part of him would regret it if they didn’t try to make it something special. 

Well, maybe there were two reasons he didn’t pull away, because he was also very much enjoying kissing her, one of his hands wrapping around her waist, feeling the firm but soft panels of lace lining her figure as she returned his kiss. Rey was smiling against his lips as her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers twining themselves in his hair, and it almost felt like practice for the real thing. 

Maybe it was. 

Tiny giggles escaped them both as they pulled away, and Ben took her hands into his as he stepped back, looking her up and down before nodding his approval. “You’re perfect.” 

“You sure? I feel ridiculous.”

“You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever seen,” he promised her, then he pulled on her hands, bringing her closer to him so he could see the hazel of her eyes in the sunlight. “And I can't wait to marry you.”

“Then marry me,” she told him, quirking her eyebrow to let him know she meant business, that she was indeed challenging him. 

Initially, he’d intended to honor his promise to his mother for a big wedding, but he needed to marry her immediately or he might have collapsed. He was barely able to process what was happening, all he knew was that he needed to do exactly what she’d just asked of him. “Are you sure? Right now?”

“Yes, I’m sure, can we please just go already? I’ll put shoes on, you com your mother and let’s do it.”

“I guess the dress is compromise enough.”

“Please, Finn and Poe live five minutes away we can com them, too,” she promised him, then she squeezed his hand. “What do you say?”

He didn’t even need a minute to think about it before he started nodding. “Let’s go get married,” he said, then he was kissing her again, excitement swelling in his veins as they shared this one last kiss before the one they’d have at the altar, and they finally got the chance to be bound to one another forever. 


	28. The Tale of the Missing Towel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In their dorm room one night, Rose dares Rey to go into the showers and steal someone's towel. Rey accidentally goes into the men's showers. Dripping wet and completely naked isn't how Ben thought he'd meet the cute girl on his floor, nor is it how she'd thought she'd meet her RA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M  
Or really N for Nudity  


College was a time for stupid shit to go down. If ever Rey was to do something dumb that she’d be able to tell in stories one day, this was the time to do that. Of course, those things usually involved just smoking weed or drinking a little too much before her twenty-first birthday. They didn’t tend to involve shit like  _ this _ , like going into the bathroom and stealing a towel off of some poor unsuspecting fuck. 

Rose, Finn, and Poe had a strange definition of what counted for fun or what counted as stupid. She definitely agreed that this was stupid, but she already felt bad for the poor asshole who would be suffering from running to their dorm naked. 

Already she could hear the shower running, and she was only walking down the hall. Occasionally, the snickers of her friends--whose heads were hanging out of Poe’s dorm’s entrance--filled her ears, but the primary sound was the water running as the sole person showering at the bright hour of one in the morning cleaned themselves off. 

She was nervous, unbearably nervous, almost completely petrified, but she pressed on, opening the door to the community showers as whoever it was started singing. A rich, deep male voice filled her ears, and she realized she’d entered the men’s bathroom instead of the women’s, but it was too late to back out now. 

Rey held her breath as she rounded the corner, feeling as if she wanted to strip down a few layers as the steam from whoever was showering surrounded her like a thin layer of fog. The towel, her prize, was hanging on the little towel hook outside the shower, the curtain was drawn. She would be invisible. She could sneak in and out of the shower without being noticed. 

This was her moment. 

Her heart was racing, her breathing was barely controlled, but she did it, she snatched the towel off of the hook. For a split second, she just stood there staring at it, admiring the fine, white stitching on the end--unable to believe that she’d just done such a thing. She had just stolen someone’s towel, and he was about to be naked running through the halls either trying to find it or trying to get back to his dorm. 

She was a terrible person, but this was absolutely worth it. Was it? Was this worth it?

This split second, however, was not one she actually had. Before she knew it, the person in the shower stopped singing, and she knew she wasn’t going to make it without being seen entirely, but she still had to try to run. Thinking fast, Rey turned around just as the shower turned off, but she only got a few steps away when the curtain opened, and the person inside stepped out to look for his towel. 

_ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  _ Oh, fuck she was screwed. 

“Hey!” a voice cried, and she froze just before she reached the door, wincing as she looked at her hand, which was still outstretched towards the handle. “You going somewhere with that?”

She turned around slowly, hesitant to give anything about her expression away, but then she just about fainted when she realized who was sticking his head out of the shower. The RA of their floor was currently staring at her from where he stood, completely fucking nude, leaning against the shower, water dripping in rivulets from his hair and body. “I might’ve been.”

“Mind giving it back?”

“You’ll have to take it from me,” she said, and  _ fuck _ where had this boldness come from?

Her RA blinked at her, and she couldn’t tell if it was the hot water or embarrassment that had him colored pink, but he was indeed starting to redden. That blush, though, soon found itself overshadowed by a smirk. “O-Okay,” he replied, then he walked toward her--still completely fucking nude--and it took all her strength for her eyes not to wander south of his broad chest. That alone made temptation a very wicked thing, and she could see the hard planes of well-defined abdominal muscles beneath that. This was going to be the hardest thirty seconds of her life, wasn’t it?

“Listen, I just want to clarify I got dared to do this--”

“Dude, I get it. Poe gave me the same dare in my freshman year,” he told her, then he snatched his towel from her hands. “He does it to literally everyone he’s friends with. Should’ve known he’d do it to me.”

Rey swallowed nervously, then she gestured between his naked body and the towel. “Are you gonna…?”

Ben looked down, and her eyes followed his, forcing her to bite her lip when she saw what was between his legs. Jesus fucking Christ would that fit in  _ anyone? _ “I could, but… I also think I didn’t get all the conditioner out of my hair, and you could get revenge on Poe for what he made you do.”

“I wouldn’t call it revenge--”

“Okay, maybe  _ I’m  _ the one trying to get revenge on Poe. I fully understand if you don’t want to, but if you’re down, hop in there with me for a few seconds. The water pressure is better than the one in the girl’s showers anyway.”

Rey blinked at him. “Really?”

“Really,” he promised, then he stepped back, and reached into the shower he’d just come out of, turning on the spray before he hung up the towel again. “I’m not propositioning you for sex, I promise. I just want Poe to  _ think _ we might’ve had sex.”

“Just an illusion?”

“Just an illusion,” he promised, then he stepped back into the shower. “I’ll be waiting.” Then she was left alone in the middle of the bathroom with a racing heartbeat. 

It was a good idea. Poe would  _ riot _ if she walked in there to steal a towel, and walked out looking like she’d gotten thoroughly fucked instead. As it was, she’d already taken a touch too long in retrieving the towel, so that undoubtedly looked suspicious, but now…? Now she was way behind schedule, and she wanted to make her friend suffer for what he’d done--and make Finn and Rose suffer for supporting him--so she reached down, and pulled off her sweater, letting it fall to the ground along with the pile of his clothes. 

The rest of her clothes followed shortly after, and soon she was standing completely naked in the men’s showers of their dorm building at a quarter after one, walking toward the shower where her RA was waiting for her to join him. She pulled back the curtain, and watched him nod as he continued rinsing his conditioner from his wavy, dark hair, and made room for her to stand beside him in the spray. “You came.”

“Not really, we just want Poe to think I did,” she said, then he blushed as she tilted her head back, and let the warm water wash over her. “You’re right, the water pressure really is better in here than it is in the women’s showers.”

“Told you.”

“How would you know that, anyway?”

“I wanted to test the theory once.”

“Oh, I thought you were going to say you took a girlfriend in there or something.”

Ben snorted as he reached behind himself, and grabbed his shampoo bottle off the ledge before offering it to her. “No, I’ve never had a girlfriend,” he admitted. 

“So you’re a virgin?”

Another blush crept up his cheeks. “Yeah, I’m just…” He gestured to his muscular form, and again she was drawn to his chest. “I’ve got just enough confidence in my body and a petty streak that runs for miles. I will get naked with anyone to spite Poe Dameron.”

“Well, it wasn’t just him, you know. Our friends did it, too,” she replied as she took the shampoo bottle from his hands, then put it back. “I don’t need to wash my hair I did it this morning, this just feels nice.”

“Okay.”

“But… while we’re here… have you at least kissed anyone?” she asked, genuinely curious but also trying to make the most of their time here. “Ever?”

Ben looked down at the ground, his mouth shifting awkwardly in the way she’d seen it do during floor meetings when he was about to reprimand the group for not keeping something clean or for breaking some other rule. It was his awkward or uncomfortable face, and that gave her the answer without him having to say it. 

“You could kiss me.” She shrugged as she said it. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“No?”

“No, besides, that’d be my revenge. I went in to steal a stupid towel like a kid and walked out having kissed our RA in the shower. Classic, I’d die a legend.”

He seemed to think it over for a minute before he began to nod slowly. “You’ll have to take the lead. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Then let me show you,” she said, then she reached up, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers twining in his hair as she pulled him down to her, their chests pressing together as she brought his lips down to hers.

At first, the kiss was a little awkward. Ben seemed frozen, unsure of what to do with himself, and if she were being honest, a little bit frightened. Before she could think to pull away and ask him if he was all right, though, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close against him, both of them being cleansed by the spray of the water as it washed over their skin, struggling to fit in the nonexistent space between them as they slowly lost themselves to the kiss. 

He was inexperienced, yes, and it definitely showed, but his enthusiasm more than made up for it, making him seem like a far better kisser than he actually was. She was almost tempted to even call him a natural. At the bare minimum, he understood how the rhythm of a kiss worked, how the two of them needed to compromise and meet each other in the middle in order for it to go any degree of smoothly. 

They moved together like it was effortless, and kissing him felt almost as easy as breathing. She wasn’t sure if this was going to go anywhere, if they were going to date or just casually hookup sometimes after this, but she didn’t care, this was just so  _ nice,  _ so serene and peaceful, that she never wanted it to end. 

If she could spend the rest of her life kissing Ben Solo in the shower, she absolutely would. 

Eventually, though, their feet and hands began to prune, and the water started to run cold. Both of them groaned as they pulled apart, and Ben turned off the shower before he pulled back the curtain. “That was nice.”

“We should do it again sometime,” she said, still feeling half-awake from the dizzying kiss they’d just shared. 

“Tomorrow night? Half-past two?”

“Where have you been all my life?” she joked, then she stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towel he’d left on the hook--

Her hand closed around nothing. Eyes going wide, she looked over to see that Ben’s towel was now gone, and fear sunk into her heart as she looked over to the floor where their clothes had once been in a pile, and those were gone, too.  _ Oh no. _

“Fucking Poe,” Ben muttered under his breath, then they both looked at each other, observing how the other person was still dripping wet from their shower. “We could still get him back, though.”

“How?”

“You think Poe likes to sleep on wet bedsheets?”

She grinned as she took his arm. “I think he loves it.”

“We’ll have to sprint so we don’t get caught.”

“Aren’t you the RA? We’re already caught.”

“Fair enough,” he said, then they took off from the bathroom, streaking through the hallways as they sped back to Poe’s dorm, a ridiculous story they could tell in ten years forming with every step. 


	29. Blimey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Rey sees Ben, he’s putting on an English accent, making fun of Hux. Thinking he’s also English, she strikes up a conversation. Ben is too embarrassed to say he has an American accent. His friends have too much fun watching him squirm to tell the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M  


Roseee  
  
I don’t think I can do this.  
  
Rey, come on, he can’t be that hot.  
  
Rose, you don’t understand, he’s fucking beautiful and he’s got my accent. He’s FROM here.  
  
THen you HAVE to talk to him. Or you forfeit your right to complain to be about how single you are. Your choice.  
  


This was unfair, it was really not fucking fair. Rey’s social anxiety was at an all-time high, her heart rate was elevated beyond any level that could be considered healthy, but the guy sitting just next to her at this pub was the most incredibly sexy man she’d seen in a long time. Dark waves framed his face, highlighting a smile that shone like the sun as he laughed, and shouted something teasingly in an accent so similar to her own it hurt to a friend of his with hair that seemed to catch fire in the light.

Said friend looked agitated with him, rolling his eyes every time he spoke. “Knock it off, Ben, you’re such an asshole.”

Roseee  
  
HIS NAME IS BEN  
  


A fitting name for a guy like this. She thought of the massive fucking clock tower just a few miles away, wondering if he’d been named after Big Ben or if it was just a coincidence. The guy wasn’t _too_ much taller than her, but he was built like a fucking wall. She could see muscles straining through his t-shirt, threatening to bulge out of the leather jacket he wore, and his _thighs_ were making the denim of his jeans look like they were cheap and ready to break.

She really did have to talk to him didn’t she?

Roseee  
  
I’m going in  
  
KEEP ME UPDATED  
  


Putting her phone aside--well, in her pocket--Rey turned in his direction, and tapped him on the shoulder just as his friend was getting up to go to the bathroom. “So what part of town are you from? You sound like you grew up close by.”

The man in front of her went pale as a sheet. It looked as though he was a ghost, like she’d somehow killed him and he was now undead. “Uh…”

“So where is it? Downtown? Northern suburbs? East London? Where?”

“I… Uh, east London, yeah… Definitely,” he said, and Rey could hear his voice shaking nervously as he spoke, but that deep voice, that accent was still hot as hell. “What… what about you?”

“Downtown. Grew up here, love it. I know the rain and the weather get a bad rap, but I don’t know. This is home for me,” she told him, then she offered him her hand. “I’m Rey.”

“Ben.”

“I know, I heard your friend say your name a minute ago, it suits you,” she told him, then she looks him up and down. “So have you lived here your whole life, or…?”

“I’m living in America right now actually, um, uh New York City. Big town, scary…” He swallowed nervously, looking around the room as if he was desperate for an escape, then he sighed. “We’re just here visiting family.”

Oh, that was disappointing, but she was also living in America right now, attending grad school in Washington D.C with her roommate Rose, whom she needed to update on the situation immediately. “So am I, actually. I’ve been living in D.C. School reasons, but I’ll be back here soon enough.”

“That’s nice.” He nodded a little bit too quickly, and she suddenly detected a quaver in his accent that was distinctly American. Maybe it was because he was just traveling, but already there was something suspicious about it.

Before she could ask him, the ginger-haired man returned from the bathroom, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Ah, Ben, who’s this?”

“I’m Rey,” she told him, offering Ben’s friend her hand, but wishing he’d go away so she could get to know him a bit more.

“Rey’s from here, Armitage, like us,” he said, his voice sounding a touch too stern as he spoke.

“Oh, is she now?” Armitage looked at her, giving her a quick once over before he nodded to Ben. “I’m gonna step outside for a quick smoke, good luck.”

“Armitage--!” Before he could finish his protest, his friend gave them a wink, and made his way from the bar, leaving him alone with Rey.

Roseee  
  
Dude, I think he might be faking it.  
  
Faking what?  
  
His accent. He’s so awkward but he seems sweet. He’s got a friend who’s definitely not faking it and now I think I know what’s going on.  
  
OH?  
  
It’s kind of cute, I think he’s doing it now to impress me.  
  


“Hey, Ben?” she asked as he turned around, but kept her phone out for the illusion she was about to put on. Tricking him into revealing whether or not he was actually English was going to be interesting, and she needed to do this properly.

“Yeah?”

“Since we’re both Brits from the states, why don’t we keep in touch? What’s your mobile?”

“My what?”

“Your phone number.”

That seemed to click with him, but mobile didn’t. Maybe her lingo was just fuzzy, but she would have sworn that if he was actually from there, he would’ve understood what she meant. “Oh, uh…” He gave her his number, accent curling around each number but somehow just a bit off. He might have been able to fool an American, but there was something about it that failed to fool her. “That’s me.”

“Great,” she replied, then she put the phone down. “Ben, I’ve been having a debate with a friend, can you tell me how you spell… favourite?”

Ben opened his mouth to answer her, but then he froze, realizing he’d been caught, and he slumped forward against the bar, his jaw slack from shock. “How did you…?” His accent dropped, and she heard the first little hints of his true voice as he asked those three words. “How did you figure it out?”

She smiled at him. “There he is.”

“How?”

“I could hear little hints in your voice and… something about how nervous you’ve looked this whole time just told me everything I needed to know. You’re actually from New York, aren’t you?”

His cheeks flushed pink, and instantly she knew her answer before he even opened his mouth. “I’m from Detroit, but I do live in New York, yes.”

“Huh, so there’s a chance I’ll see you again after this,” she said, then she let one of her hands fall on his left thigh, feeling him tense and then relax beneath her touch. “If you’re interested, that is.”

He blinked at her. “Wait, you _want_ to see me again after this? I thought my fake accent was going to drive you away.”

Rey snorted, shaking her head as she squeezed his thigh. “No. I think it was cute, but I much prefer your real one, I think it’s kind of hot actually.”

“Wait, do all British people find American accents hot?”

“Some do, but I know some of you find our accents hot, so who am I to judge?”

It was then that he looked at her like she’d just offered him the stars, and she laughed as she took in the expression on his face. _Fuck,_ she was so glad she’d talked to him. “Do you… do you want to go somewhere besides this pub and… talk?”

“As long as we don’t spend the whole night just talking, I’d love to. I want to hear all sorts of words in that voice of yours,” she told him, then she got up off the barstool, and offered him her hand. “So what do you say, Ben?”

He grinned as he took her hand, then he slapped some cash down on the bar to pay for their drinks, and together they made their way from the pub.

Roseee  
  
so yeah he was faking his accent, he’s American, but that’s not important. Right now I’m waiting for a taxi with him bECAUSE WE LEFT THE BAR  
  
WHAT  
  
LEFT BAR. GETTING LAID.  
  
ARE YOU SERIOUS?  
  
Don’t you joke with me. I want pictures (NOT OF Y’ALL FUCKING) I WANT NAMES. FACES. DETAILS.  
  
REY?  
  
REY GOD DAMN IT ARE YOU THERE?  
  
REY IF YOU DONT TEXT ME WITHIN THREE HOURS I WILL ASSUME YOU DIED. I’ll give you four hours before I start panicking though in case “Ben” has stamina.  
  


*

Rey woke up the next morning with a headache that signified a mild hangover and an ache between her thighs that signified a _great_ night. Behind her, she could feel Ben’s warmth pressing up against her through the layers of their clothing--well, his clothing, technically. He’d let her borrow his clothes after they’d finished last night--and the sound of his breathing filled her ears as she basked in the sweet contentment of being held in his arms.

It didn’t take long for her to realize one of her hands was tangled up with his, their fingers laced together over her chest, and she smiled as she squeezed it, then she let go, searching the mattress for her phone to check the time.

Of course, when she did find it, she found a flurry of worried texts from Rose, who she’d failed to get back to the night before after declaring she’d be getting laid, and she quickly realized just how badly she’d fucked up. It had been way more than four hours since Rey had last responded--an entire night had passed, after all--and she knew she had to text her friend back immediately.

Roseee  
  
I LIVE  
  
Oh thank FUCK. what happened? How much stamina did this fucker have?  
  
A LOT. I’m fucking SORE, Rose, I haven’t been SORE in years. I think we might’ve fucked on every surface of his hotel room. I don’t know. It was. So MUCH.  
  
OH. MY. GOD.  
  
I know! Look, I’ve got to go, I think he’s starting to wake up, but I’ll text you later, ok?  
  
hell yeah, i’m proud of you.  
  


She grinned as she read that last text, then she giggled softly as she heard Ben groan upon coming into wakefulness. “Good morning.”

“Put that thing down and come here,” he mumbled sleepily, causing her to laugh harder as she thought up her reply to Rose.

“Yeah, just give me a second,” she replied, typing out one last quick message before she rolled over in the bed, and reunited her lips with his.

Roseee  
  
OH, and fair warning… I’m about to make a lot of unnecessary trips to New York City...  
  



	30. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a battle in the rain, Rey has the upper hand, but she realizes she can’t bring herself to kill, or even hate, Kylo. 
> 
> He thinks she’s about to kill him, but she kisses him instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> WE MADE IT TO THE END! Thank you so much to everyone who followed all of these and commented on them, you made my month a little more fun. I am never writing this many one shots in a month again, but it was fun while it lasted. Thank you all again, so much, from the bottom of my heart.  


She has the kill strike. He’s on the ground, his lightsaber knocked several feet away, and she has pure, terrifying intent in her eyes. Water is splashing into his face at a rate that’s intense enough that he doesn’t even feel like he can  _ breathe _ , and so he barely bothers trying. What use is oxygen to a dead man anyway?

All he can do right now is watch as Rey falls to her knees on top of him, straddling his hips as she prepares to bring her lightsaber down upon his face. It’s going to be a brutal death, but he hopes that after this, he can finally find some sort of peace. Maybe this will end the ever-present conflict within him. Maybe this will make him finally see the light again. 

How did they get here? How did they go so wrong? He remembers sitting fireside with her, touching her hand, telling her she wasn’t alone. It’s so vivid it’s like it’s happening right now, and so it’s what he thinks about as her lightsaber swings toward him in slow motion. He thinks about that light, the warmth of the fire, and the tear streaming down her cheek. 

Without being fully aware of it, he pushes this memory into their bond, he makes them both remember what it was like to feel complete—to feel like they weren’t alone. He thinks her name, he thinks of her face as she’d told him what it had been like to fall into that dark pit on Ahch-To, how he’d wanted nothing more than to wipe her tears away and tell her she never had to cry again while he was around, but he didn’t have the words to say. 

The connection between them had still been so new and raw back then, but now it’s solidified, and he knows she can see it, can sense what he’d been thinking about back then. She can see how he’d thought he wanted to embrace her the way he’d never embraced anyone, how he’d wanted to take her into his arms and press kisses into her hair, and how he’d been left reeling in his chambers when Luke had interrupted them. 

She can see it all, and he watches a glint of recognition and familiarity breakdown the hardness in her gaze as she looks down at him, and he thinks that she may be starting to realize her kill strike is a mistake. He wants to say her name, wants to beg her to remember what they have between them, that this isn’t as simple as hatred or love, but it transcends the meaning of both words. 

The saber keeps crashing down, and he shuts his eyes in the wake of death. He’s been to funerals before; those corpses always looked like they were sleeping. He supposes he will be sleeping, too, joining all those souls in whatever oblivion lies beyond this plane of existence. 

Rey’s battle cry fills his ears in the form of an anguished shriek, and he heard something hard slam down just beside his head in time with the sound of her lightsaber deactivating. 

It can’t be real, there’s no way it’s real. She had the best kill shot of all time. Rey had him by the scalp, there’s no way she just surrendered it, but he is still breathing. Between beats from the waves crashing along the sides of the destroyed Death Star, he is able to draw air into his starved lungs. 

_ He is alive _ . It’s impossible, but he’s alive. How the hell is he alive? 

Rain continues to pelt his face, but he needs to see what’s just happened. He tunes himself into the sound of Rey’s heavy breathing—she’s panting so hard he’s actually terrified for her health—and uses that rhythm to blink his eyes open. 

Her face is red, turning steadily crimson as she pants above him, her face mere inches from his. Above him, he can see her hand enclosed around the no longer lit lightsaber, which she still holds in an iron grip as she looks down into his eyes, and he can sense a whole world of conflict coming from her, but in at least one regard, she has found resolve. 

This will not be the day he dies, not by her hand, at least. The water lapping at their bodies might have something to say about both of their fates, but he will not perish from her strike. She can’t bring herself to do it, she won’t do it; she too remembers how it felt to touch his hand by the fire, how it felt to want to reach out and touch his face, his hair, and need to be held. He can sense her memory of that night by the fire through their bond, and he knows she remembers who and what they are, what lays between them. 

There’s still a fierce determination in her eyes, though, and he’s frightened to think what it means. He is frightened to think what any of it means. Through their connection, he senses her inner turmoil slowly coming to a halt, the gears in her mind turning until they reach conclusions and resolutions that decide what she will do next. 

He’s still given minimal warning when she finally does act. 

When they’d gotten into this fight, he’d been certain that only one of them would walk away; that she would kill him or he’d—reluctantly—kill her. This had been how he’d thought it would go, he’d genuinely thought they wouldn’t walk away from this. 

He should have known better.

Rey’s eyes dart down, and that is the only warning he gets. The sea calms, time stands still, his eyes become hooded, and he suddenly feels her move closer and closer until her lips are on his, and she is kissing him. 

Unlike the ferocity with which she had fought, this is soft, sweet, and gentle. This makes him feel at ease, at peace, and for once in his life, Ben no longer feels like he’s at war with himself, because all he can think about is returning her kiss, moving his lips in time with hers to remind her—to remind them  _ both _ —that he’s there, that this is real, that it is going to be okay. 

They’re soaking wet and cold, but in his mind’s eye they’re sitting by that fire again, she’s wrapped up in her little blanket, and he’s taken off both his gloves, holding her close against him as they sit on her bed, and he kisses her sweetly. That firelight is glowing through his closed eyelids, reminding him that they still have a future, that whatever she’d seen the night they’d really been here is still going to happen, it isn’t just some vision conjured up by Snoke. 

His fingers find themselves twined between her three buns, cradling her head as he pulls her close to him, and he feels her let go of the lightsaber at the side of his head to hold him close as well. Through the rain, he can feel tears streaming down her cheeks, warm, hot, and salty, and he brushes them away as he kisses her, all the while assuring her through their bond that everything is going to be fine. They’re going to walk away from this, defeat the true evil wreaking havoc on the galaxy, and everything will be fine. 

_ I’m here,  _ he thinks through their connection, slowly sitting up as he continues kissing her.  _ I’m not going to leave you. _

All he can feel in return is her gratitude but also her sorrow. She’s hardly ever had anyone stay in her life for an extended period of time, much less vow to be a part of it. 

For a few more seconds, he lets his kiss linger, then he pulls away from her, both of them breathing hard as they process what just happened. Their eyes are locked, their stares hungry, needing, begging for more, but also finding peace within each other. 

It’s the most serene he’s ever felt, the most  _ right _ he’s ever felt, and he never wants it to go away. 

He wants to whisper her name, tell her so many things, say  _ anything _ , but he can’t. Nothing comes to mind, so he just sits there on the soaking wet surface of the Death Star holding her in his arms. At some point, she buries her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder and just holds him, sobbing quietly into the fabric of his tunic as his hands rub her back as gently as he possibly can. 

It’s effortless, holding her like this, rocking gently back and forth as he promises her over and over again through the bond that he’s never going to leave her, but he knows they can’t stay here forever. They’ve got to move, they’ve got a war to win, and they need to win it together. 

Eventually, Ben pulls back, and looks her in the eyes, asking her quietly if she’s okay with them getting up and leaving—if she’s ready to go. Luckily she is, and she backs off of him, offering him her hands before pulling him up to his feet. His hands refuse to let go of hers, though, and he squeezes them gently before he lets go of one, and summons his lightsaber back to his belt through the force. She does the same with hers, and once both of their weapons are secure, they make their way off of the doomed weapon and back to where he knows her friends are waiting, ready to take on the worst evil in the galaxy as they were meant to—

Together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I challenged myself with this one to write one with no dialogue in it and I stuck with that plan god damn it.
> 
> Also here's my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spacewafflehou1) if y'all haven't decided you're sick of me yet.


End file.
